Before the Fall

When Faye pulled into her driveway, she was surprised to see a Rolls-Royce town car sitting in the driveway. “Now this is just bizarre,” Faye commented. Logan still said nothing, but got out of the car and started walking towards his house, luggage in tow.

“Just where do you think you’re going, mister?” Faye demanded, putting her hand on her hip and glaring playfully.

“Uhm… home?” Logan asked like it was a question. “Faye, I think you’ve got company. I don’t want to intrude.”

“Nonsense. They’ve never cared about you being there before." The truth was, her parents had simply never noticed. "Besides, I’ll end up telling you all about it later. I might as well save my breath and have you there.” So Logan followed her up her driveway.

That turned out to be a mistake.

The door was opened even before Faye reached it, and then there was her mother, Avery Driscol, standing there and glaring for all she was worth at Logan.

“Mom, what’s going on?” Faye asked. Her mother didn’t comment, but was pushed aside by a large, rather successful looking man. He looked to be about her parents’ age, and he, too, glared at Logan.

“Who is this?” he demanded.

“Logan Carter, sir,” Logan answered, his voice carefully polite. He refused to show any intimidation, but he was inwardly shouting up a storm at Faye for dragging him along.

“You must be Faye,” the man said, shifting his gaze to her and examining her like someone might look over a poodle in a dog show. He nodded to himself, then said, “Now, Faye, you’ll come inside. Good day, Mr. Carter.”

Logan didn’t miss the obvious dismissal. He also knew that Faye would obey, as she always did. Little Miss Perfect, and all that. She glanced over her shoulder as she stepped across the threshold. The door was shut in Logan’s face.

Faye followed the man and her mother into the living room, where several strangers and her father sat, drinking… tea? Things just kept getting stranger. Normally, Scott would be swigging whiskey this time of day. With him was a prim-looking woman and a dashing- that was the only word to describe him- man who looked to be one, maybe two years older than her. She gave them a welcoming smile, one that she knew was also questioning.

“Come, dear, and sit by me,” the woman said, patting the space in between her and the boy. Faye obeyed, sitting on the very edge of the cushion, not wanting to get too close to these strangers. She felt tense, her nerves responding automatically to the atmosphere of the room.

“Faye, I’d like to introduce myself. I’m Richard Hillard. This is my wife, Liz, and there’s my son Ignatius. Are you packed?” Faye glanced around the room- Liz was still smiling, Ignatius was staring blankly at a spot on the carpet, and her parents looked... nervous.

“Uhm.. well, ah… Mr. Hillard, sir, we haven't exactly explained anything to her yet,” her father said nervously. Richard glanced between Scott and Faye several times, clearly astounded and at a loss for words.

And then he was angry. “What do you mean, didn’t tell her?”

“Well, erm... See, that wasn’t part of the contract.” Faye sat silently through all of this, trying to work out what was happening.

Liz shifted uncomfortably, then spoke up, glancing sharply at her husband before he could release any more of his temper. “Well, we’ll just have to explain it to her, ourselves.” She looked at Faye then and said, “We’re here to collect you. We made a deal before you were born with the Driscols, that we would pay them to raise you until the day before your eighteenth birthday.”

“What are you saying?” Faye asked, then shook her head. She hated it when people asked questions with obvious answers. “They aren’t my parents?”

“Well, darling, of course they will always be your parents in your heart. But you’re not related to them.” Faye shook her head again, and looked at the two of them, sitting on the other couch and looking uncomfortable.

This explains a lot, she thought. “I guess I’d better go pack,” Faye said. She could tell that the Hillards were all shocked- even Ignatius’ head snapped toward her and away from the carpet. It was obvious that they expected more of a reaction from her. They’d just have to be disappointed. What was she supposed to do? It was painfully clear now that the Driscols didn’t love her and never had. She’d been kept for the money she brought them. Faye couldn’t stay with them. And while she was sure that Logan would try to convince his mother to let her move in, she couldn’t ask that of Mrs. Carter after all the woman had done for Faye. So Faye would go.

“It’ll be like an adventure,” she told herself as she hurried up the stairs to her bedroom. Faye was a book junkie and had always dreamed of something out of the ordinary happening to her. Well, who was she to complain now that it had?

Still, Faye was bursting with an unfamiliar mix of emotions: sorrow, rage, and confusion being the primary ones. She pulled out her cell phone and called Logan. He answered before the first ring had finished sounding. “What’s going on?” Faye moved to stand at the window that faced his house and found him approaching his own. They stared at each other for a long moment while Faye took seven long, deep breaths. Logan waited impatiently, knowing that this small ritual was more calming to her than anything he might say could be.

“Logan, I have so much to tell you. I’m moving. I…” Faye trailed off. How could she say this?

“Wait, back up. What?” Logan demanded.

“They’re not my parents, Logan. Avery and Scott, I mean,” she clarified, trying out their names for the first time. She’d be a fool to refer to them as Mom and Dad now. She squeezed her eyes shut., and Logan could see even from his house that her brow was furrowed. She was taking this hard. “I… I’ll tell you more when I know more.”

“But who are your parents?” Logan asked, sympathy coloring his voice. He sounded worried.

“I don't know. Maybe them? But that just doesn't make sense. Besides, they're all too... dark for me to be related.” Faye had white skin and naturally ultralight blonde hair with pale green eyes. The Hillards were all brunets with dark eyes and tanned complexions. It just didn't fit.

There was a knock at her door. Faye glanced at it, then back at Logan. “Sorry, Lo, but I’ve got to go. Someone’s at my door. I’ll call you soon.”

“Soon,” Logan repeated, watching her turn away from him and put down her phone. Logan closed his blinds and walked away from the window.