My name is Isabella Black, but I usually go by Izzy. My mom took me with her when she left La Push and my dad after five years of marriage. I was four at the time. She moved us to Madrid, Spain where I lived until I left for college back in the States. She got remarried when I was eleven to a man she had been with for three years. His name was Alexander Hernandez. They had met when I was eight and he moved into our apartment building. His floor was under ours and my mom went to introduce herself and apologize in advance for any noise we made. I was still a bit of a klutz back then and could trip over air; it stopped when I took up football, but before that, I fell over everything. He was instantly enamored with her and asked her out constantly until she caved.
Alex was the one that taught me to play football; he basically raised me. He had moved out of his apartment and into ours the year before they married. He adopted me when they got married and my mom was pregnant within the year. She died in a car accident the week she was supposed to begin her maternity leave; she taught kindergarteners. She was driving to work when a car sped through a red light and t-boned her. She died instantly; the man who ran into her died from his injuries later that day. Alex and I were heartbroken.
It took us a year to move on from her death and get 'better'. It was during that time he taught me to play football. He had played when he was in school and had been his team's captain. He could have gone professional, but both of his parents died when he was about to sign to a team and they had never approved of him playing professionally. They had wanted him to be a doctor so that's what he did. He loved being a doctor now and worked at a local free clinic.
He was the reason I wanted to be a doctor. I had started hanging out at the clinic when I wasn't at school or football practice. At first, I just did homework, but when I turned fourteen I started helping the nurses out behind the desk and by the time I was sixteen I could guess fairly well what a patient was in for by knowing their symptoms.
Alex and the nurses were the ones who convinced me to go to the States for my degree. I wanted to stay in Spain, but Alex wanted me to go to the States so I had a chance to meet my father. I hadn't seen him since mom and I left La Push. I knew that his name was Charlie Black and he was a police officer and that he had an older brother, Billy, who had three kids, Rebecca, Rachel, and Jacob and a wife named Sarah. That's all I knew about the Blacks though, my mother never talked about them. I don't know why she left her home or if he remarried or had more kids.
My mom grew up Renee Lahote she had an older sister who had gotten pregnant right out of high school, but the father skipped town and left the reservation when he found out. My mom and aunt's parents had died when they were still in high school so they decided to give my cousin Paul the Lahote name and never looked back. Mom had kept in contact with her sister until she died in the car accident so I didn't know anything about my aunt and cousin either. That's why Alex wanted me to go back to the States, he knew I was always curious about what had happened with my family.
So I had left Spain and went to school in Seattle planing to contact my family once I was done with med school. I had finished my degree two years earlier than I expected because I worked through the summers and had taken some classes in Spain before I left. So now at twenty-four, I was headed back to the place I was born; the place where all my blood family lived.