It's raining in Winschoten. Rain isn't dreadful, but it gets overwhelming sometimes, and Doutzen misses the sun. From what she knows of her past, she was born in Zutphen sixteen years ago, and abandoned soon afterward by her birth mother. Growing up, Doutzen's parents were always forthcoming about her birth family: or what they know of it, which isn't much. She doesn't know the name of her birth parents, or the story behind her abandonment. She was found by her mother, Marit, in a dumpster outside of the hospital. It seems unbelievable that a person could just toss their baby away, as if it were garbage. Doutzen has heard stories of this happening. It's one of those things that no one thinks will ever happen to them.

When she's not in school, Doutzen spends a lot of time in the library. It's Christmas break, and Doutzen hasn't yet received her diploma. Someday, she wishes to learn more about her biological family: but deep down, there's a fear of having nothing to learn. Maybe her biological parents are dead. Maybe there's nothing to know. Maybe, no matter how much effort Doutzen puts into finding her family, there's nothing out there for her.

"Mama," says Doutzen, sitting with Marit on the couch. She's a kind woman, who took Doutzen in only weeks after she was born. "Can I talk to you about something?" It doesn't matter how fond Doutzen is of her mother, or how much she treasures her family. There's a sense of guilt and loss that comes with the desire to find the woman who gave birth to you. Sometimes, when Doutzen sees a woman she vaguely resembles on the street, she daydreams about her. Sometimes she wonders how different her upbringing would have been had Marit never found her, or if she had never been abandoned at all.

It's hard to explain to people who aren't adopted. Why would anyone want to meet a woman who didn't want them? Why would anybody choose the person who abandoned them over the family that gave them a life?

Marit has two children of her own, but doesn't treat Doutzen any differently. Everyone, she says, deserves to feel loved and safe. Marit puts her crossword puzzle down, looking up at Doutzen, probably having some idea of what she's about to say. "Of course. What's on your mind?"

Doutzen is registered as Marit's biological daughter. The story, according to Marit, is that she found a newborn in an alleyway and claimed it as her own, naming Doutzen and registering the infant as her own. This means that even some of Marit's own family still doesn't know the truth. Doutzen supposes it's easier this way. On her tenth birthday, Doutzen's parents sat her down and explained everything they knew about her family. For all intents and purposes, Marit and Ruben are Doutzen's family. No one knows anything about her birth parents: not their names, not their backgrounds, not even if they're still alive. "Well..." Doutzen isn't really shy. She's not outgoing, either. "You know how I wondered if I have family anywhere else?"

It's kind of a bizarre thought. A person could be related to a complete stranger, maybe even someone they interact with on a daily basis. Doutzen's older siblings still live at home, but work even during the holidays. Doutzen's still in secondary school. "Yes." Marit is supportive of her children, even when she doesn't agree with their decisions. She says Doutzen doesn't fully understand the risks that come with looking for estranged family. There's a family photo on the wall from last Christmas. Doutzen looks nothing like her siblings. All of the family is brown-haired, and Doutzen is strawberry blonde.

It's humid, and Doutzen is warm. It's hard to read her mother. Marit isn't always as straightforward as she needs to be. There's still so much unanswered. One small piece of information can go a long way. "Don't be mad, but I joined some ancestry websites to try and find family members." It would be unusual for Marit to be angry over this. She trusts her children to make good decisions, and doesn't coddle them when mistakes are made. "I have family in Amsterdam."

It was quite exciting, actually, to discover there's family living nearby. Although Doutzen knows little more than their names, she's been in contact with someone named Verena, who shares twenty five percent of Doutzen's DNA. According to Doutzen's research, this must be an aunt, or a grandparent, or a half sibling. Doutzen hasn't traveled much, but everyone's been to Amsterdam, and it's weird - she could have walked past relatives without even realizing. It's a new year, and Doutzen has many resolutions. She's not religious, but this doesn't matter. There's no such thing as coincidence. Everything happens for a reason, even if it's bad.

Doutzen wonders if Verena looks like her. She wonders if she has any biological siblings. "Is that so?" Doutzen's oldest sibling, Timo, is twenty six years old. If he were here, he would surely make fun of her. "Have you been in contact?"

From the age of nine, Doutzen has been transporting herself around the city. If she wanted to, she could probably travel around the country on her own. She's not old enough to drive, and the bus can be time-consuming. Doutzen takes a breath; the front door opens, revealing her sister, Beatrix. "I've been talking to someone named Verena." The woman has no grandchildren, and no half-siblings that she knows of. This leaves Doutzen under the impression that she must be an aunt. "She gave me her address. She invited me to come meet her family."

"What are you talking about?"

Beatrix leaves her shoes in front of the door before flopping down onto the couch. "Did Doutzen find biological family?" It's hard to tell whether the women feel betrayed by this. Marit's children's passions are important. Doutzen's relationship with her family is important, too. "Are you leaving us?"

Beatrix is five years older than Doutzen. Despite this, the girls get along more like friends than sisters.

"Of course not!" Doutzen's family has a dog and a cat, who fight with one another a lot. "I just want to go to Amsterdam and meet Verena. Maybe she knows more about my birth parents." Caspar, a lively papillon, nuzzles his head into Doutzen's leg, waiting to be pet. "You're my family. I would never leave you behind." She doesn't tell her mother about the photos she's received from Verena. It's not a big deal. The woman has three kids, who Doutzen presumes to be her cousins.

"Do you know anything about my birth parents, Mama? What are their names?"

"I know that your mother left you right after your birth, but nobody knows what her name was, or even if she's still alive."

It takes just over two hours to get to Amsterdam. Doutzen has a one-track mind, as her mother has pointed out many times. "I suppose you want me to take you there today." Marit isn't annoyed, just matter-of-fact. Doutzen can pretend, but her mother knows her well. Once her mind is set on something, it's hard to change it.

It was hard to wrap her head around it, once the truth about Doutzen was revealed. Her parents explained it with tact, but it was big news, and even the most considerate of deliveries couldn't make it less so. When Doutzen demanded to know why she hadn't been told earlier, her father apologized. He hadn't needed to do this, she realizes now. The job of a parent is to keep their children safe under any circumstance. In the past, Doutzen complained about secrets her parents kept from her. Nowadays, she feels grateful to have parents at all.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"You're hurting Mom and Dad's feelings, you know. Why do you want to find family so badly? Are we not good enough?"

Like any older brother, Timo finds joy in harassing his sisters. Almost exactly a decade older than Doutzen, Timo thinks he's smart, and isn't afraid to tell her so. He doesn't know her at all. "No, Mom, Dad, and Beatrix are great," she'll retort when he asks annoying questions, "it's just you who isn't good enough."As stupid as he is, it's Timo's job to annoy her, and she's grateful for this in a strange way.

"Feel free to stay in Amsterdam," says Timo, poking his head out of his bedroom long enough to annoy Doutzen one last time. "We won't miss you."

She throws a shoe at him. "Shut up, dweeb."

What if you do find your birth mother, and she's nothing like you expected? What if she's a criminal, or wants nothing to do with you?

Well, then at least I'd have an answer, and I wouldn't have to wonder anymore.

In recent years, Doutzen became interested in the concept of parallel universes. Though her siblings dismiss the idea as being ridiculous, it brings Doutzen comfort to think about different versions of her life. At the same time, it's kind of sad to think about how many things she could have missed. If her birth mother had raised her, how different would her life have turned out? The thought of not knowing Marit and Ruben is depressing - but if Doutzen's birth mother had kept her, she wouldn't know any different. Maybe the woman was an addict. Maybe she was a teenager. There's a reason she didn't want her baby, and Doutzen desperately wants to figure it out. It's like her mother says. Some things just aren't ours to know.

Amsterdam is much bigger than Winschoten. It's been a while since Doutzen has been to a big city. Verena, who sent Doutzen her home address, has a large and pretty house in the center of the city. Doutzen has sweaty palms. Behind the walls are her aunt and cousins - this is both nerve-wracking and exciting. Marit shows support, but reminds Doutzen not to get too disappointed if things don't go the way she hopes. This is easier said than done.

"Doutzen?"

Verena looks young. Realistically, she's about as old as Marit, and has children older than Doutzen. Weeks ago, finding birth family seemed impossible and completely overwhelming. All Doutzen really had to do was a little research on the Internet, and now she has her first answer. There are many more, probably. It helps if people are forthcoming. It helps if people are willing to cooperate.

"Hi, Verena." Doutzen almost calls her tante. She's only been speaking to the woman for a week, but it feels natural. No one can replace Doutzen's adopted parents. Sometimes, it's just nice to broaden your horizons. When Verena comes toward her for a hug, Doutzen feels welcomed. It's a good hug: firm and safe, but not too long. Marit, who Doutzen asked to stay, stays by her daughter's side.

"Come in." Verena hugs Marit, too. Doutzen's mother is not a woman who enjoys being hugged, but she doesn't complain. Feeling nervous, and rubbing her sweaty palms on her jacket, Doutzen follows the women inside. It's a nice home, albeit cluttered. Doutzen is cluttered too. She sits on a skinny sofa, making space for Doutzen on her left. "This is my husband, Pieter, and my kids: Joke, Ilse, and Isaac." She gestures to each family member in turn, leaving Doutzen overwhelmed.

She has cousins. While doing a DNA test to look for family, Doutzen discovered she was a carrier for albinism. Before this, she never thought about her health. Her mother holds her hand, calming Doutzen. Regardless of what happens, she'll always have Marit and Ruben. "Thank you for having me." It's hard to think of anything productive to say. Once Doutzen learns of biological family, she can never go back. "Nice to meet you all."

The walls are decorated with crosses and prints of Biblical quotes. Verena wears a cross necklace. Joke is the oldest of her children. She has albinism, and sits at the table, sliding her fingers over a tactile Rubik's Cube. Nobody else looks like her. Doutzen has questions: about Verena, about her parents, about genetics, but it all can't be asked at once. Isaac, who looks to be about five or six years old, stares at Doutzen and her mother for a long time. "Who are you?"

It's all a bit much, already. It's a very strange feeling: meeting relatives who don't know of your existence. Doutzen isn't a timid girl, but she suddenly feels very small and shy. "This is Doutzen," says Verena, pulling the small boy onto her lap. Things happen so quickly. Doutzen has an aunt, an uncle, cousins. Maybe they know the name of her parents. She folds her sweaty hands in her lap, gazing at the artwork on the living room walls. It's hard to keep names straight. It's hard to remember too much new information at once.

Ruben smiles. "Have you learned much about your family or past since starting your research?"

She hasn't. How much is there to know? "Uh-" Doutzen's cheeks flush. Her mother, who sits very close to her, offers an encouraging pat. "Not really." She's spoken too quietly. Isaac continues to stare at her. Clearing her throat, Doutzen sits up straighter. "How many siblings do you have?"

Joke looks up from her cube. Doutzen doubts the girl can see her. Verena frowns. "I haven't seen my siblings since they moved out of our parents' house in the eighties. I have a brother and a sister - I suppose, if you could call them that." That's a relatable feeling. Sometimes, Doutzen's siblings feel more like strangers than family. She's nosy. She can't bear not knowing the story behind this.

When Doutzen graduates, she wants to become a flight attendant. During her life, she's been on a plane only two times. One day, she'd love to visit America. In school, Doutzen studies English. She isn't very good.

Prioritizing is hard. Only ask the most pressing questions, Marit said. This might be easy for some people. To Doutzen, every question feels equally pressing. "Do any of your siblings have albinism? I found out that I have the gene, and I'm wondering who I got it from." It's not hard to understand how genetic conditions work. Marit takes her hand off Doutzen's leg to answer a text message. Joke speaks for the first time since Doutzen's arrival.

"She's Pim's."

She has a dog, which removes itself from underneath the table when Joke stands. It's a golden dog with a long tail, and accompanies the girl down the stairs. Doutzen supposes she's not really a girl. Joke is older than her, by probably a few years. When she sits on the floor in front of the sofa, Verena looks surprised. "What makes you say that?"

The dog nuzzles into Joke's side; she scratches behind its ears, looking in Doutzen's direction, but probably not seeing her at all. "She's not yours. Anika never got the gene, remember? You said your parents made you all get genetic testing. So if she's not your kid, and she's not Anika's, she has to be Pim's." Joke speaks more rapidly than her parents, and this makes her sound confident. Doutzen tries to sound confident when she speaks, and never quite accomplishes it.

"Who's Pim?"

The sun has come out since Doutzen's arrival. She enjoys the sun, and looks forward to swimming in the summer. She's wondering enough, probably, to make conversation last all day. Joke falls silent again, forcing her mother to fill the silence. "Pim is my brother."

Doutzen's head spins. A week ago, it all seemed like such a good idea. Maybe it's true what everyone says. It's foolish to search for the unknown. Most times, the unknown is better left that way. It's quiet, but not uncomfortably so. Down the hall, shouts echo as the youngest children play.

"My father's name is Pim."

It's hard to tell how Marit feels about the information they've been given. Everyone can say they're okay with something if it makes a loved one happy. There's not a single human alive that doesn't struggle with insecurity. Too much information at once makes Doutzen tired and confused. She's received so much helpful knowledge, and there's still much left unanswered. Doutzen shivers. Joke, after mumbling something into her mother's ear, stands to walk away, with her dog wagging its tail behind her.