Mystic Falls has a strange way of revealing the truth—quietly, and then all at once. You thought you were ready to find out more about your birth mother, but nothing could’ve prepared you for this.

Isobel.

A name you’d only whispered in the quietest corners of your thoughts is suddenly everywhere. On an old yearbook page Jenna handed you like a piece of treasure. On Alaric’s lips, trembling with anger and pain.

And then—Damon.

He says her name with that maddening, casual indifference. “She was delicious,” he says, looking right into Alaric’s eyes before going on with his little performance.

To the crowd, he’s just Bachelor Number 5, playing his part, charming the room. But to Alaric—it’s Damon taunting him about how he killed his wife. And little does he know… she was also your birth mother.

You blink the tears away before they fall, your throat burning. You lean toward Jenna and mutter that you need some air. You have to leave—because if you stay, you might scream, or cry, or do something you’ll regret.

The night air is cold on your skin, but your blood is still boiling. You pace. You breathe. You try to calm down.

But of course the universe won’t let you have that. Because when you step back inside—you bump right into him.

Damon.

He looks relaxed, like none of it matters. Like he didn’t just twist a knife into two people’s chests and call it fun.

“Did you enjoy that?” you snap before you can stop yourself. “Rubbing it in to Alaric Saltzman?” His brows lift lazily, “What?”

“Just as I was starting to think there was something redeemable about you.” Your voice cracks—not with weakness, but with fury. “Did I forget to mention, earlier when we were talking… about my birth mother? The one who gave me up?”

He tilted his head slightly, that smug smile still plastered on his face. “Mh-hm?” You take a step forward, eyes locked on his.

“Her name was Isobel.” And just like that—his smirk fades. Go ahead, you think. Say something. Justify it. Make a joke. Be Damon.

But he doesn’t.