It’s on the way home when I demand we take a detour to Redding. There are still a few boxes we need to dig through at the storage shed, and if Linda called my father about me visiting her, we need to do this now before he gets rid of anything.

Thankfully, when we arrive, nothing has been disturbed since Julian, and I were last here. With Moses’s help, we rifle through boxes for items that might be of use, but only two appear to have promise, so we toss them into the back of the car. 

“So what now?” Julian asks.

“We go home, and I comb through whatever is in these boxes.” My eyes drift over to Moses, and he’s inside the shed taking photos. “What are you doing?”

“If your dad decides to get rid of all this stuff, we have proof it was here before. Like this furniture, you said, burned in the fire.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Julian says. “Guess your boyfriend is good for something.”

“I heard that,” Moses says but continues snapping photos.

“Speaking of photos.” Julian rubs the back of his head. “Jerry wanted me to remind you that we have a wedding to shoot next weekend, so you better be done with the flu.”

“Right.” I grin and fake a cough. “I’ve been calling in sick to work.”

“Yeah, I noticed. I’ve been doing all the annoying family portraits on my own.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s whatever. You’ve got some dramatic shit going on with your dad. You can play sick all you want.”

Right then, my phone beeps, so I dig into my pocket for it. The screen glows with a text message from my father, asking if I’m available to spend a day with him and talk about things, so I hold it out to Julian.

“Tell him you’re busy with work, but this weekend you’re free,” he says.

“I… I don’t feel safe being alone with him anymore.”

“You won’t be alone. Me and your man-candy will keep a close watch.”

“What’s going on?” Moses approaches, his hand going to the small of my back. 

“My dad wants to have a father-daughter day with me.” I show him the text.

“Seems a little sus. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s talked to Linda, and now he’s keeping tabs. Blow him off. Tell him you’re busy.”

“No, she can’t blow him off,” Julian objects.

“Yes, she can. He put his damn hands on her. She has every right to tell him to fuck off!” Moses barks.

“Listen, asshole, you’re not the only one pist off about that,” Julian fires back.

“Oh, my God!” I hold my arms out between them. “Can the two of you not behave like King Kong all the time? Because it would be great if my boyfriend and best friend could get along.”

“Oh, so he’s your boyfriend now?” Julian smirks.

“We made it official this morning.” Moses moves his hands to my shoulders and kisses my temple. It’s subtle but sends the message I am his. 

“So happy for you.” Julian rolls his eyes. “Anyway, we should probably get out of here because I think your new boyfriend is right. I think your dear old pops is feeling you out.”

“We should drive by his house. See if he’s there. If he wants to keep tabs on Valerie, well, we can play that game too,” Moses suggests.

“Good idea.” I nod and tap out a reply to my dad that I’m free on Saturday. “And I think Julian is right too. I should meet with my dad and put an end to this. I’m going to ask him flat out about everything.”

“Val, no.”

“Moses…” I turn to face him and place my hand on his chest. “I’m not looking for approval. I’m doing this.”

“And we’ll be close by. We’ve got you,” Julian says.

Despite his reluctance, Moses agrees, and we leave the storage facility to head back to my dad’s cabin. When we get there, we park the cars down the road and venture through the woods leading to the house. My dad’s car is in the driveway, but so is a rental, and I realize neither of these cars were the ones parked at Linda’s house. So my dad must use an alternate vehicle when he’s playing the family man. 

Guess he has all his bases covered. I’m almost impressed.

However, he should have thought about getting curtains because we can see right into the cabin as we lurk from the trees.

My stomach does somersaults when I spot redheaded Miranda through the kitchen window. She’s washing dishes, and my dad is leaning against the refrigerator drinking a beer. It’s mid-afternoon, and he should be at work, but that’s not what has my fists so tightly curled at my sides.

“He said she was out of his life.”

“Wait, is that the psycho ex-girlfriend?” Julian’s eyes widen.

“Yep. That’s her.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I don’t make out with my exes.” Moses nods toward the window, and I taste bile when I look back up.

Through the panes, my dad and Miranda are embraced in a passionate kiss. His hands are in her hair, and she’s tugging loose his shirt from his jeans.

“I think we’ve seen enough. I don’t think he’s leaving the cabin anytime soon. This buys us time to get home.” I swallow the knot in my throat and walk away. 

It’s quiet as we head back to the cars. Neither of the boys says a word, and I’m thankful because too many thoughts are firing in my brain. One of them being, who the hell is the man I call father? But also, if I don’t know who he really is, then I don’t know who I am either. Maybe I’m Valentina Moreno, or perhaps I’m simply no one. 

Twigs snap under our feet as we make our through the woods, and Moses takes my hand with a gentle squeeze. Next to me, Julian pulls my head into his chest and kisses the top of it.

I’m glad they’re here.

∆∆∆

The next day, I’m alone in the apartment as Moses works a shift at the hospital, and Julian is doing an offsite anniversary photoshoot for a couple expecting their first child. 

The boxes we stole from my dad’s storage shed are torn open, and their contents are scattered around me as I sit on the floor. The first box contained a mix of photos from my childhood and copies of documents like my birth certificate. However, the ones that caught me by surprise were my mom's medical records, Elaine. My father mentioned her parents being concerned about her mental stability, but I didn’t realize how sick she was. 

According to psychiatric evaluations, she suffered from manic depression and thoughts of self-harm. Some of the records appear to be from before I was born, but one is from a few months before she took her life. According to the notes, my mother swallowed several sleeping pills, and my father brought her into the E.R when he found her. Except there isn’t a follow-up to what happened, and I cannot recall any of this.

What worries me is that growing up, my mother always seemed like a happy person. I don’t have any memory of her being sad. She was a good mother who had incredible patience in homeschooling me and would take me to the park when I finished assignments. 

Unlike the other moms, she didn’t sit back while I ran off and played. Instead, she would swing on the swings with me and slide down the slide with me. After dinner, we would wash dishes together and sing. Then, she would brush my hair before bed while telling me stories of castles and princesses. 

So these medical records describing a mentally ill woman feel like they’re about someone else. Not Elaine Rossi—my mother.

However, the first box is just the tip of the iceberg, and we hit the motherload when we packed box number two into the car. As soon as I opened it, my body knew it was the end-all to this mess as my stomach lurched. 

Because it was full of news clippings of Valentina Moreno and her family, most of them go as far back as the day Valentina disappeared. Others are articles collected throughout the years as if my parents or my father were keeping tabs. 

I’m sitting with legs crisscrossed, staring at all of it, when Lisa knocks at the door, so I carefully pull myself from the mess and answer her. 

“Your food was sitting out here.” She holds up an order from Door Dash. 

“Oh, shoot! They always leave my food out here without knocking.”

“I hope it’s not cold…” Her eyes drift past me and land on the boxes. “Are you moving?”

“No. Just sorting through some old things.” 

I nod for her to come in, and she closes the door behind her as I return to the pile of lies scattered across the floor. The food was indeed sitting out there for a while because the fries are cold when I shove them into my mouth. 

“What’s all this?” Lisa crouches and plucks one of the news articles from the chaos. Her eyes scan over the words. “Oh, I remember this case! I was seven years old when she went missing, and it was all over the news. Are you a journalist? Are you doing research?”

“A photographer.”

“Oh…” Her face contorts in confusion.

“Lisa, what would you do if you suspected that your life was a lie and the people who raised you aren’t your real parents?”

“There was actually a case like that back in the 70s near Yosemite.”

“Near Yosemite?” My eyes flash to hers. 

“Yeah. A boy named Stephen went missing, and then seven years later, he turned up at a police station saying he had been kidnapped. For seven years, his abductor convinced him that his parents didn’t want him. So the poor kid suffered a lot of mental and physical abuse during those years. Such a sad story.”

A bead of sweat rolls down the back of my neck, even though it’s not hot in the apartment. Any hunger I felt has zapped away, so I set my burger down and stare at it. I’m like Stephen. I think.

There’s still a part of me wishing the DNA results will come back positive for my dad being my biological father. I can handle the other lies, but I don’t think I can handle my parents being a lie. 

When I glance back up at Lisa, she’s holding an image of Valentina with a scrutinizing gaze. Then her eyes move from it to me. 

“Val, what is all this?” She gestures to the mess surrounding us. 

“Do you really want to know?”

“Is this because you look like this missing girl?” She wiggles the photo. 

“It’s because I think I am her.”

“I see…” She scans over the articles on the floor. “So is this why things were a little tense other day when I dropped by?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm…” Her fingers graze one of the articles. “If you truly believe you’re this missing girl, I can help you.”

“How?”

“My dad is a retired detective for SFPD, but he still has connections, and I remember him following this case closely back in the 90s. If you want his help, I can call him. Would you like that?”

“Yes. I would like that very much!”

“Then I’ll give him a call.” Lisa smiles and gives my chin a little nudge with her finger. “Cheer up, Val. We’ll figure things out.”

I throw my arms around her because this is the best news I’ve heard all week, and I am so glad Lisa is my neighbor.