1. Chapter One


Willow felt her eyes well up in tears as she looked at the piece of paper in front of her. She didn't notice the clouds of dust that floated gently in the air around her, or as the sky that came in through the skylight slowly darkened, darkening the room around her.

She sat in silence, tears rolling down her face as she looked at the official piece of paper, the same piece of paper that had taken her world, everything she had ever known, and turned it onto her head. She didn't hear the knocking on the front door, which increasingly got louder and more panicked. She didn't hear someone tapping on the glass of her balcony door, calling her name. She didn't hear someone putting the spare key, which had been buried beneath a cross in the garden, into the lock, and opening the front door, nor the pounding of feet up the staircase, nor the sound of her balcony being opened to admit someone. She heard none of it.

She didn't hear the muffled voices coming from her bedroom, not the quiet voice saying that he could hear her upstairs, in the attic. She didn't hear the feet quickly clambering up the ladder to the attic, her back turned to them. The first thing she knew when she felt the soft, familiar hand on her shoulder, and the quiet voice in her ear.

"Wills, what's wrong. Are you okay?"

"Willow didn't speak, but she turned and flung herself into Xander's arms, breaking into violent sobs.

"Hey, Wills, what's with the tears? Its okay, Xan-mans here. Did your yellow crayon break or something?"

"It's…all…been…a…lie" Willow gasped between sobs.

"What's been, Wills. What's been a lie? Who lied?"

"I'm…" Willow began, before she dissolved into helpless tears again, before she picked up the piece of paper and passed it to Xander, before she buried her face into his jacket and cried. Xander frowned as he read down the page.

"Oh, god, I'm so sorry, Wills. Its okay."

"What's wrong, Xander?" Buffy quietly asked from the trapdoor that lead to the attic. Cordy and Angel were crouched beside her. The entire Scooby gang had raced to Willow's house when she'd failed to turn up to the research meeting in the library that had been scheduled for that night. Willow hadn't answered her phone, either, so they had left Giles behind to bring the car, and had run to Willow's house.

Xander glanced down at Willow in his arms, and she nodded slightly at his unasked question. Xander smiled briefly, before he reached back and handed the paper to the others, who clustered close together to read it. Angel hissed, having been the first to read it.

"Oh, Wills, I'm so sorry." Buffy murmured.

"Yeah, me too." Cordy agreed.

"Did you have any idea?" Buffy asked. Willow shook her head and Xander was frowning.

"Why would they do this, they're here how much every year? A week, maybe two, all together?"

"How long has that been going on for?" Angel quietly asked.

"Since I was five. I used to have a nanny that came and stayed with me when I wasn't at school, but she went home every night. By the time I was eight, my parents, well, the Rosenbergs, didn't think I needed her anymore, so I was left alone."

"That's horrible" Cordelia murmured, moving closer to Willow, and gently enveloped her and Xander in a hug. Buffy moved to Willow and Xander's other side, and embraced them as well. Angel watched as the four teenagers huddled together, giving, and receiving comfort. He heard Giles' car pull up in Willow's driveway, and the telltale signs of the watcher hurrying into the house. He slowly descended the ladder to not alert the teenagers in the attic, before he hurried to the first floor landing.

"Giles, they're in the attic," Angel spoke quietly.

"Is Willow alright?" the Watcher asked worriedly.

"She's fine, physically at least." Angel reassured him

Giles frowned, "What happened? Was she attacked?"

"No, she just found something that shocked her." Explained Angel

"What would shock her so much?"

"Giles, she found a letter. She was adopted."


Willow rested her head wearily on the arm of her couch. Buffy, Xander, and Cordelia were all sprawled out on inflatable mattresses on her lounge room floor, having decided that Willow shouldn't have to be alone after finding out that the two people that she had treated as her parents weren't her parents at all. The people that had neglected her and forgotten her for most of her life had no biological connection with her. She'd never been a accident, and they'd never had an obligation to looking after her. They volunteered to be her parents, and they'd abandoned her.

It wasn't fair.

Not for the first time, Willow wondered what her real parents were like. Did she look like her mother, or her father? What about her personality? What did her parents do for a living? Were they married? Did she have any brothers or sisters? The questions were never-ending. She glanced at the phone that stood on a table beside her couch, and wished she could confront her parents, but it was too late to call them. They were in Montreal at the moment, and would be home in two weeks. Willow knew already that they would be the longest two weeks of her life.