Disclaimer: No I do not own Everwood or anything pertaining to the show. I do own this title, any original characters, and this plot line.

Author's Note: I'm so happy that Everwood has started a brand new season! I can't wait to see what happens this year. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this story and review.

Finding Out Who I Am

Chapter One

"Who are you?" he asked, his hair falling into his eyes as he looked at me through the crack in the door.

"I'm your daughter." I replied, my voice strong and calmer than I felt. Hadn't I waited my entire life for this moment? I had reason to be nervous.

Really that's only the middle of my story. It really starts months before when I gathered up the courage to ask my mother the question that had been filling my head for as long as I can remember.

My mother has always been more like a best friend than a mom. She had me only a few months before her twenty-second birthday and she never once regretted having me. At least not that I know of. We've always been close my mother and I, and I couldn't ask for anyone better than her. But for most of my life I'd always wondered who my father was. Mom never talked 'bout him, and her hometown of Everwood, Colorado was always off limits to talk about. Hell she wouldn't even talk about her own mother, my grandmother. Nor did the old lady ever come and visit us. Somethin' about mom having me outta wedlock or some other bull like that.

It was the summer after my senior year of high school. I had recently graduated and my future was looking bright. I had filled out applications to many of the top name universities and had already been accepted to Harvard and Yale. The one thing mom always said to me was how I had my father's brains and talent. She would always get this strange look in her eyes whenever I played the piano. It was like she was living in the past, reliving every moment she had spent with my father, the man whose name I didn't even know.

All of my friends had plans that summer. Their parents were either taking 'em to the beach, or over to Europe. See, most of my friends had butt loads of money and their parents always took them on these awesome vacations. While all of my friends were off having good times though, I was stuck at home, wishing I had somewhere to go. But mom didn't have the money for us to go gallivanting 'round the country. So, I spent the first few weeks of my summer locked away in the house, practicing my piano.

Even though I'd been accepted to two really amazing colleges, I was still holding out hopes that Juliard would call me in for an audition, so I had to keep my skills sharp. I was always glad that mom had to work everyday those first few weeks, it kept me from having to see that far away look she gets. And this is where my story really begins.

I was sitting down at the piano, my fingers flying over the keys. Lost in my own world, the world of quarter notes and eighth notes, treble clefs and four-four time, I didn't hear the phone ringing. Pausing to turn the page of my music, the ringing of the phone broke through the veil that surrounded me. I got up quickly and hurried to the phone, picking it up just before the answering machine turned on.

"Hello?" I said, balancing the receiver on my shoulder as I played with the drawer of the desk the phone sits on. It was my mother's desk. A nice small oak one where she pays all the bills and works on her articles for our town's newspaper.

When I was little I can remember sitting on the floor, watching as she stressed over how to pay the bills that had just come in. Looking back on it now, things would have been so much easier on us, we could have lived better, if she had just swallowed her pride when she had found out that she was pregnant with me.

"Sam I need you to do me a favor," it was Candice, my mom's best friend, "Can you watch Valerie tonight? Her dad's comin' home tonight and we just really need to be alone for a little while."

"Yeah sure," I replied, "no prob."

"Thank you so much. If you can come by say 'round seven."

"Ok." I said.

"Thank you Sam." With that Candice hung up and I placed the phone back in its cradle.

I don't know how, but by some weird coincidence my finger got stuck in the small metal handle on the top drawer of the desk. As I tried to tug my finger out, the drawer didn't budge. It was locked. Confused as to why mom would lock one of the drawers, I finally managed to get my finger unstuck and then turned to inspecting the desk. Why would mom lock it? There must have been something important in there. Something that I shouldn't see, but was that going to stop me from finding out what it was? No.

Searching through the other desk drawers I finally found a small key that was hidden beneath a stack of papers.

"Real original spot mom." I said putting the key into the locked drawer. There was nothing in the drawer except one lonely envelope. Now I'm a really curious person, so of course I had to see what was in there. So I pulled out the letter and read it.

"When the hell were you planning on telling me that you were paid to keep me a secret from my father?" I yelled at mom as soon as she walked through the door later that afternoon.

"Why were you going through my stuff?" she asked, her voice an eerie calm, but her eyes flashing menacingly.

"I asked you first." I snapped. I had stepped over the line.

"Don't you dare use that tone with me young lady," she said, "I am the mother here, not you."

"Whatever." I rolled my eyes. If I was over the line already I might as well stay over it.

"Go to your room." Mom ordered, her voice low and husky with repressed anger. I stayed where I was. "I said go to your room Samantha." Her voice was slowly rising.

"Not until you tell me what I want to know." I retorted. Her eyes flashed.

"Got to your room NOW!" she yelled.

I had read the letter at least twenty times since going up to my room. Mom had called Candice and told her I was grounded so I couldn't watch Valerie, so I had nothing better to do then read and reread the words written by my grandfather. My grandfather. That was a strange phrase. I'd never called any man grandfather before since mom's family had disowned her when she got pregnant with me. But this man, the one who had sent the letter and the money to take care of me, this man was as much my grandfather as mom's dad was. He was nonexistent in my life. The only thing I knew about him was his name, Andy Brown. What was that to go on?

Climbing off my bed, I sat down at my desk and switched on my laptop before login onto the internet. A quick Google search brought up all the information I needed.

Andy Brown, world-renowned brain surgeon, and father of the man who doesn't even know he got my mom pregnant. I looked through his bio until I found what I wanted to know.

Children: Deliah Brown- Sports Journalist for the Denver Times. Twenty-seven. Single. Ephram Brown- Concert pianist/composer. Residence- New York City. Thirty-four. Divorced.

I couldn't believe it. I finally knew who my father was. He was The Ephram Brown. I'd heard of him of course. What aspiring musician hadn't? Ephram Brown was famous for his compositions and his incredible flare at the piano. And he was my father.

Ok, so it was short, but I think it's off to a good start. Please review and tell me what you all thought. Oh yeah, sorry for any names that aren't spelled correctly.