The Truth About Family by Victoria Ichizli-Bartels

Author:Victoria Ichizli-Bartels
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Victoria Ichizli-Bartels
Published: 2021-11-19T12:56:53+00:00

Chapter 23

Much earlier, somewhere in Moldova

Pictures and sounds came back.

I was lying on a bed facing a wall, when I heard those words for the first time.

A young voice said, “But we, I mean, you are poor and don’t have enough to feed another hungry mouth.”

A more mature voice answered. “We’ll manage if everyone helps and if we stick together.” It was a man’s voice. “It’s decided, he can stay with us. It’s clear that you can’t take him with you.”

Whom was he addressing?

“You said that he doesn’t know their names.”

Whose names? And who were they talking about?

“So he’ll be our third child. He seems to be of the same age as Gicu and since we are new here—”

Where?

“We can say that they are twins. It will not attract attention because Gicu and Sofia only arrived yesterday with Maria and we’ve not yet visited the neighbors to introduce ourselves.”

A voice I thought I recognized said, “Thank you, Nicu, you are doing the right thing. I’ll go and see if I can wake him up. He must be hungry by now and I have to leave before it gets light.”

Then I felt someone stroking me and heard the woman’s voice: “Mihaitsa, wake up. Sweet one, come here to me.”

I was carried by this woman into a room. I clutched tightly to her.

But who was she and where was she taking me?

The woman sat on a chair still holding me tight and said, “I promised you a new Daddy and Mommy, little one. Here they are. Look at them.” She disengaged my hands from her sleeves and turned me to face the other people in the room. I saw a table in front of me and a stove to the right of us. We were in the kitchen.

Three pairs of eyes watched me. Two of them were dark brown, almost black and one was as green as mine. Two of the faces were watching me with a warm smile while the third was spoiled by furrowed brows and was glowering at me. I held my breath as I recalled the look of those piercing black eyes.

In the next moment, I heard a warm voice from the woman sitting to my left. She had the same eyes as the boy, dark brown, almost black, like pebbles glistening in the sun. I must have made this same association back then, because the image flashed suddenly in my mind.

There was a difference between the woman’s and the boy’s eyes. The woman’s eyes were smiling, lines at their edge. But not the boy’s.

“Don’t be scared, little one,” said the woman, “this is your home now.”

“This is your new Mommy, Maria,” said the woman holding me.

This woman turned me then to face a man and said, “And this is your new Daddy, Nicolae.”

The man was smiling too. His was a different kind of smile, but it felt as warm as the woman’s.

“You should remember these names, Mihaitsa,” said the woman holding me. “Maria and Nicolae. Mommy Maria and Daddy Nicolae.

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