3 years later...
*Rylyn*

"Hey, Noah," I say, smiling at my little three year old brother in the doorway of my room. His adorable baby blue eyes peek out beneath his thick brown bangs. His looks take after Mirissa but he's definitely his dad's child.
"What are doing?" he asks, walking in and peering into a box of junk. Cleaning out my room for the summer before junior year was not the most pleasant thing.
"Cleaning," I reply, "want to help me?"
"Sure!" he squeals.
"Alright," I say, picking him up. "Now I'm almost done. We just need to sort out a few things in the closet."
"What are we gonna find?"
"I dunno," I shrug. "Wanna find out?"
"Uh huh."
So we open the closet door together and I grab the last stack of papers off of the shelf. I don't know if I touched this one in the past three years I've been here. Holding them and placing Noah on the floor, I shuffle through to see if there were any pictures for him to look at. They were mostly documents, but there were a few old drawings. I study the documents while sitting cross legged on the floor with Noah on my lap.
They appeared to be my adoption papers from a while ago. Smiling at the memory, someone knocks on the frame of my door. I look up to see Matthew, who has grown tall over the years and looks a lot like my younger brother, only, obviously, a lot older. They could be siblings.
"Hey," he says, walking in and flopping down on my neatly made bed. "It feels so good up here..."
"Better than your own bedroom?" I tease.
"You have a better breeze here!" he exclaims.
"Matthew!" Noah shouts. He gets up and scrambles up on the bed beside my friend.
"What's up bud?" Matthew asks putting an arm around his little shoulders. "Anything on your mind, man?"
"Nuthin' man," Noah replies, trying to imitate him. I try not to laugh. "We're cleaning Rylyn's room!"
"That's exciting," Matthew says, gazing at the ceiling.
"Want to see some pictures?"
"Of course."
While Noah shows Matthew some of my old art pieces, I continue to flip though my own discoveries. I've seen all of these before-foster papers-but I never got past the card that said I was adopted. Curious, I look at the adoption documents where it was recorded why and how the meeting took place. None of it looked unusual-disappointing, I know-except for someone else's foreign signature. Carefully I read and look further into the papers that hold my past. Then, I gasp louder than I thought I could. It came out more like a cry.
"What is it?" Matthew asks, sitting up straight on my bed. Mirissa calls for Noah and he screams that he's coming before running out of the room. I watch him in a shocked and confused silence.
Matthew stares at me with wide eyes and I return it, my mouth gaping. Finally, I get up and hand them to him. He scans them and looks up, confused.
"I don't get it," he says. "Whose Bethany Lemly?"
"Matthew," I whisper, not wanting to be overheard and taking the documents from him. "Look, it says she was a decedent of my dad and mom." His eyes light up and grow wider, if that was possible.
"This is crazy," he says quietly, shaking his head. "So that means you actually have... A directly related relative..."
"I have a sister."