When Vanessa showed him the documents, his demeanor changed.
He told her I had suffered a catastrophic breakdown after childbirth.
He claimed I had chosen adoption but later convinced myself the baby had died.
He said I was fragile.
That I might hurt myself if confronted with the truth.
“He told me reaching out to you would be cruel,” Vanessa whispered.
I closed my eyes.
It was the same tactic he’d used against me.
Make concern sound like control.
Make silence seem merciful.
Make the victim believe that asking questions would cause harm.
Vanessa continued.
“Then he offered me money.”
“How much?”
“Fifty thousand dollars.”
I stared at her.
“He said it would help me start my life.
He said accepting it was the best way to respect your wishes.”
“Did you take it?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“I told him I wasn’t looking for money.
I just wanted to know you.”
