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MidReal Story
Hidden Heir
Scenario:Damn it! The man I’ve been keeping is actually the heir of a wealthy tycoon!
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Natalia Harper
the woman who discovers her guest's true identity, friends with other protagonists, short brown hair, green eyes, resourceful and secretive.
Lucas Grant
the heir to a wealthy tycoon's empire, guest of Natalia Harper, tall with dark hair and blue eyes, charming and unaware of his true identity.
Paulina Lennon
Natalia's rival and manipulative adversary, secretly involved with Natalia's husband, seeks to undermine Natalia's quest for justice while maintaining a facade of friendship.
I finally found out who has been staying in my house for the last six months.
It wasn't hard.
All I had to do was look through the papers I had gotten from the attorney and his name would be listed.
I just hadn't taken the time to really look through them.
Now that I know, I don't know what to do with this information.
I can't tell him who he really is.
He still doesn't remember enough to know who he is or what his past was.
I have to keep watching over him until he remembers or until the time runs out for him to remember by himself.
If he finds out from someone else before I have a chance to tell him, he may not want to stay with me anymore.
I may have lost him before I even had him.
"Hey, beautiful," he said, waking up and not knowing I had been standing there watching him sleep.
"Hi," I said softly as I came closer to where he was lying in bed.
"How are you feeling today?"
"I'm fine," he said, sitting up and rubbing his face.
I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to act like nothing was wrong.
I placed my hand on his forehead, checking his temperature.
He didn't seem to have a fever, so I moved my hand away.
"Mom, can we talk? Just us?"
Lyra asked, standing in the doorway to Lucas's room.
She was fidgeting with her sleeve, something she had started doing after her father left us.
Her voice sounded nervous, like she was scared to be talking to me about whatever it was that she wanted to talk about.
"Yeah, sure," I said as Lucas gave me an encouraging nod.
I stood up and followed Lyra out of his room and down the hall to her bedroom.
My heart raced as I closed her door behind us.
She has been quiet lately, watching Lucas with those observant eyes of hers.
Has she figured out who he is?
"Mom, I found a picture of him in Dad's old things," Lyra said, her voice barely above a whisper.
I felt my breath catch, trying to keep my expression neutral.
"He looks just like the man in your wedding photos," she continued, eyes wide with a mix of fear and curiosity.
I sat down on the edge of her bed, my hands shaking.
Lyra sat next to me, her eyes boring into mine.
She was close enough that I could see the flecks of blue in her brown eyes, something she got from me.
She inched closer to me, her gaze intense.
I had never noticed how much like me she looked until now.
I stood up and moved away from her, not liking the way she was looking at me.
My hands were still shaking.
Lyra grabbed my wrist as I tried to stand, her fingers wrapping around it gently.
She let go after a moment, but not before I noticed how long her fingers felt against my skin.
"Mom, there's something else," she said, her voice cracking as she spoke.
I looked down at her and saw tears forming in her eyes.
She pulled out her diary from under her pillow and flipped through the pages before handing it to me. The pages were all filled with sketches of people and places around town: our house, the garden in the back, Lucas reading in the sun on the patio, the park we went to sometimes, even some of our neighbors who lived nearby.
As I flipped through the pages, I realized that all of the sketches were of things and people that had happened since Lucas had moved into our house.
There was a sketch of Lucas and Lyra sitting together in the garden, reading together.
Another one of just Lucas sitting on our couch reading a book with a cup of coffee on the table beside him.
My stomach dropped when I got to a sketch of Lucas sleeping on our couch in his boxers with his shirt off.
He had been sleeping there for so long that Lyra was used to seeing him like that. There were other sketches of him cooking dinner in our kitchen, helping Lyra with homework on the dining room table, even one of him playing soccer with Lyra in our backyard.
There was a sketch of him holding me as I cried while we sat on our front porch swing.
Lyra had been watching us when she shouldn't have been.
I felt a shiver run down my spine as I realized that my daughter had been watching me for months now and had seen more than she should have seen.
I sat down on the edge of her bed, frozen in place.
She pulled out an envelope from under her pillow and sat down next to me.
Her hands were shaking as she opened it and pulled out a letter.
"This is how I found it," she said, explaining that she had followed me to Dad's study last week when I had gone there to look through his files.
She had watched through the keyhole as I searched through his things.
After I left, she went in and found this letter on the floor behind his desk where it must have fallen when I was looking through his papers.
The letter was folded into a square, and Lyra unfolded it as she spoke.
Inside was a photo of Lucas standing next to my late husband outside a small cabin with trees all around them.
The cabin looked old, like it had been there for years.
There were two chairs sitting on the porch, and smoke came out of the chimney. The photo was dated fifteen years ago, long before I met either man.
Lyra's voice cracked as she asked if we could go visit the cabin in the photo.
I barely heard her though.
My mind was racing with questions about what other secrets my husband had kept from me and why Lucas had never mentioned knowing him. Lyra tugged at my sleeve, pointing at something on the back of the photo.
I turned it over, my hands shaking.
She was pointing at something written on the back of the photo.
I turned it over, looking at what she was pointing at.
There was a handwritten date and location: Bear Creek Lodge, 2008.
Lyra shifted closer to me on the bed, her breathing uneven.
I stared at the writing on the back of the photo, trying to make sense of it all.
Lyra's fingers intertwined with mine as I sat there staring at the photo.
The gesture felt intimate, like something a husband would do with his wife.
I tried to pull my hand away from hers, but she held tighter.
Her eyes were filling with tears as she spoke in a whispery voice.
"Mom, Lucas is my brother, isn't he?" she asked, her voice trembling.
I felt my heart stop, the weight of her words crashing over me.
"Yes," I finally admitted, my voice barely audible.