"I’d rather go to jail than marry him," I said resolutely.
My mom, knowing how stubborn I could be, started to cry. "Carrie, don’t talk like that. You’re still young. If you end up in jail, your whole life will be ruined."
"He and I are relatives, so we can’t even get a marriage certificate. What are you thinking?" I said, frustration and disbelief in my voice.
My dad, clearly fuming, crushed the cigarette butt under his heel. "Tomorrow, we’re applying for adoption withdrawal," he said, confirming Grandma’s earlier claim. It was true—I really wasn’t my parents' biological daughter.
Dallas, my younger brother, stood up abruptly and made for the door.
My dad’s voice cut through the tension. "Dallas, where are you going?"
Dallas stopped in his tracks, his body trembling with anger. "Carrie can’t marry him. I’m going to have it out with his family."
My dad’s face darkened and he slammed his hand on the table. "You better not. If you want your sister to avoid more trouble, just keep quiet."
The house fell silent except for my dad’s heavy sighs and my mom’s quiet weeping.