From the moment he could remember, Alex knew only that he had been found screaming with hunger and fear on the doorstep of an orphanage. His mother, it seemed, had possessed some shred of conscienceshe had wrapped him in a warm blanket, tucked a woollen shawl around him, and placed the wailing bundle in a cardboard box. She hadnt wanted him to freeze, at least.
There was no note, no clue to his name, his birth, or where he came from. But clutched tightly in the babys tiny fist was a large silver pendant in the shape of the letter “A”his mothers only legacy.
This pendant was no mass-produced trinket but a custom piece, stamped with the jewellers mark. The authorities had followed the lead, hoping to track down the reckless woman and hold her accountable, but the trail went cold. The jeweller who had crafted it had died of old age, and no record of the piece could be found in his books.
So, in the orphanage registry, the boy became Alex Unknown. Another child of the state.
His entire childhood passed within those walls, raised on welfare, aching for the love of parents hed never known. He dreamed of nothing but finding them someday.
“Something terrible must have happened for her to leave me like that,” hed tell himself. “Shell come back for me one day.”
When he finally aged out of the system, his foster carer hung the pendant around his neck and told him its story.
“So, she wanted me to find her?” Alex said.
“Maybe,” the woman shrugged. “Or perhaps you just tugged it off her neck. Babies grab at things, dont they? The chain wasnt with itjust the pendant in your fist.”
The state gave him a small flattiny, but his own. He enrolled in college, graduated, and found work as a mechanic.
***
He met Emily by accidentquite literally. They collided on the street. First, their shoulders knocked together, sending the stack of fashion magazines in her arms tumbling to the pavement. Then, as Alex scrambled to gather them, their foreheads cracked together with enough force to send sparks behind their eyes. They sat there in the middle of the pavement, passers-by stepping around them, laughing through tears.
That was the moment Alex knewhed fallen for her, completely.
“Let me make it up to you,” he blurted. “Have coffee with me?”
To her own surprise, Emily agreed. There was something endearing in his clumsy sincerity, something almost familiar.
“You know, Alex,” she said barely five minutes into their conversation, “I feel like Ive known you forever.”
“Funny. I was thinking the same thing.”
From then on, they were inseparable. Their bond was so strong they couldnt go an hour without calling or texting. They *felt* each other. If Alex cut himself at work, Emily would ring within minutes, asking if he was hurt.
“Youre me, and Im you,” Alex told her once. “Youre my fate. I just wish I had parents to introduce you to.”
“Well, I have parents,” Emily said, squeezing his hand. “And I know theyll love you.”
***
“Your boyfriends from an *orphanage*?” Margaret, Emilys mother, clutched her chest and sank into her armchair. “Theyre all troubled, unsocialised”
“Mum, Alex is kind, funny!” Emily protested. “You cant judge everyone the same!”
“Shes right,” said James, Emilys father, a retired officer. “Well meet him first, hear what he has to say. *Then* well decide if we need to panic.”
“James, you dont understand!” Margaret cried. “We didnt raise her just to throw her at some no-name, no-family stray! What if his parents were addicts?”
“Well find out when we meet him,” James said firmly.
Margaret stormed off, slamming the bedroom door behind her.
James winked at Emily. “Well manage, love.”
“Thanks, Dad,” she said, kissing his cheek. “Saturday, then?”
“Saturday. I want to see whos stolen my daughters heart.”
***
On the day, Alex stood at their doorstep, freshly pressed, with two bouquets (one for Emily, one for her mother) and a cake in hand.
Beaming, Emily led him inside. “Mum, Dadthis is Alex.”
James shook his hand warmly. Margaret took the flowersthen went pale. She stood frozen, as if struck dumb.
At last, she gestured to the table. “Forgive me. Nerves.”
Dinner passed uneasily. Then, casually, she asked, “Alex, that pendantits unusual. Not something youd find in shops.”
“The only thing I have of my mothers,” he said. “I was holding it when they found me.”
Margaret didnt speak another word that night. She pushed peas around her plate while James and Alex bonded over football, fishing, everything.
“Fine lad,” James said after Alex left.
“Fine?” Margaret shrieked. “Hes crude, ill-mannered”
“Have you lost your mind?” James stared. “Whats he done?”
But Margaret whirled on Emily. “End it. Now.”
She refused to explain, retreating to her room.
***
Alone, Margarets mind raced. *How could fate be this cruel?* Her gaze snagged on an old photo tucked in the bookshelfher younger self, smirking, wearing the *exact* same pendant now around Alexs neck.
“So, I *didnt* lose it,” she whispered. “*He* tore it off me.”
She hid the photo in her pocket. James and Emily couldnt see it. She had to fix this.
After a sleepless night, she decided: Alex had to leave.
“Emily, darling,” she said sweetly the next morning, “I behaved badly. Let me apologise to Alexgive me his number?”
Unsuspecting, Emily scribbled it down and left in high spirits.
The moment the door shut, Margaret dialled.
“Alex, could you come over? An hour?”
He arrived promptly. Margaret, red-eyed, ushered him in.
“We must talk,” she said. “You and Emily must end this. Swear youll never tell heror James.”
Alex, bewildered, nodded. “I swear.”
“Alex,” she said coldly, “Emily is your *sister*.” She thrust the photo at himher, young, wearing the pendant.
“Mum?” Alex whispered. Tears welled. “My father?”
Margaret shook her head. “James isnt him. We were separatedhe was at military college. I was young, stupid. Then I fell pregnant, and your father abandoned me. I told James the baby died. I left you at the orphanage. Then I came back, and we married.”
“And me?” Alexs voice broke.
“You?” She laughed bitterly. “A mistake. You *ruin* everything just by existing. Leave. Disappear.”
Alex stood, numb. *This* was his mother? Her words*a mistake*echoed in his skull.
“Goodbye, Margaret,” he said hoarsely. “Your secrets safe.”
“*Ill tell Dad everything!*”
They spun. Emily stood in the doorway, eyes blazing with hate.
“I thought you were good,” she spat. “But youre *rotten*.”
***
“Sorry, sis,” Alex mumbled, tears falling as he turned away.
He ran blindly, wishing he could vanish. Days later, he enlistedsomewhere dangerous, far away.
At the station, James hugged him tight. “Come back, son. Youve got family waiting.”
Emily kissed his cheek. “We love you.”
For the first time, Alex felt warmth. He had a father. A sister.
But Margaret was alone. James divorced her, disgusted by her cruelty.
And still, she blamed Alexfor existing, for *daring* to return.
