“I know that now.”
We sat together until the afternoon light began fading.
Miriam eventually asked whether we wanted a few minutes alone.
Vanessa nodded.
When the door closed, I asked the question that had been growing inside me.
“Your adoptive mother.
Did she know?”
Vanessa wiped her eyes.
“I don’t think she knew the papers were forged.
But I think she suspected something was wrong.”
“Why?”
“Because she kept everything.
She never threw away a single document.”
Vanessa looked at the bracelet.
“She told me once that love sometimes means telling the truth even when you’re afraid of losing someone.
I think she wanted to tell me more, but she never figured out how.”
I thought of Lillian Avery.
A woman I’d never met.
A woman who had held my daughter through the years I couldn’t.
A woman who had kissed her goodnight, cared for her when she was sick, and watched her become an adult.
