My mother’s name is Sybil Yvonne Jerkins, but there was a blank spot where my father’s name should’ve been. I was born Morgan Simone Regis Jerkins the Simone and Regis were officially my middle names. My original birth certificate indicates that my story is half missing. I felt like an outsider among my blood, a feeling that would stay with me until I was an adult.
They were, from all appearances, the picture-perfect family. Later, I learned that my father not only had three other daughters, but a wife and a dog, as well. I didn’t have the words to express what I felt. I don’t remember saying anything in response. Instead, he pulled out his wallet and showed me photos of three girls before saying, “These are your sisters.” The oldest was eleven years my senior, the middle child was eight years my senior, and the last was just fifteen months my senior. He would regularly visit me at my mother’s home, bringing niceties along with his charisma and swagger. He pulled me to his side and said he had something to show me. I was seven years old when I learned that I wasn’t my father’s only daughter.
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