Actually she didn't know now who she was. It was clear that the people she had thought of as her parents were not really her parents; and looking at them closely she could see that they were different physically, different personality-wise and thought differently than she did.
She now knew that she might have been in the wrong family all her sixteen years and no one had told her of that fact. Why hadn't they told her? It was something easy to see, if you looked closely.
She did not like the people who were in her "family" with one exception--her grandmother. But was she even her grandmother?
Was it that she was adopted, or maybe even kidnapped from her real family?She had seen a TV show where a baby was kidnapped right out of the hospital by a couple desperate for a child. Maybe she was one of those surrogate babies and her real mother was some teenager now long gone and couldn't be found.
She thought, too, her father could have been a sperm donor and unknown to both of the people who called themselves her parents; or maybe the sperm came from the man who she had thought was her dad all these years.
Could be, she thought, that she had come from her mother’s egg and the sperm of some anonymous donor now long gone and maybe even her "father" didn't even know.
It was crazy she thought, made crazier starting with the anonymous email she had gotten two months ago simply saying the people she thought were her parents were not her parents and that she should get a DNA test and see what it said.
She was shocked, utterly shocked at the thought, wondering who it was that could have sent her such an email resonating within her because she too had wondered at various times in her life if the two people who called themselves her parents were really her parents.
She didn't know. But she decided that she needed to find out. Finding out was necessary, she decided, because settling the question seemed important, more important than anything else going on in her life.
She became preoccupied with the question if her parents where who they said they were; was she who she thought she was.
Part of her felt she could not continue on as usual although she did nothing for two weeks after the email came. Who was the e-mailer? That seemed important. That person must know something about her to have written the email; that person she needed to contact, even though there was no real return email address with the email.
She heard that you could trace an email, and nights she started to research on the internet what kind of software was available to detect where an email came from, the IP address of the sender, the computer which was used to send it.
Perhaps it was all a mistake she thought--until the second email came two weeks after the first. Then she knew it was no mistake that it came to her. This made her even more determined to find out who sent it and the first one.
She found some software that could not tell her who sent it but did tell her where it was sent from.
She clicked on the computer to find the geographical origin of the email and was shocked to see it originated right from her town.