Chapter 7
Sarah chose an attorney named Dana Brooks.
Dana met us in a small office with children’s books on one shelf. She told Sarah she would explain every document before asking her to sign it.
I liked her immediately.
For two weeks, Dana and Mr. Bell compared the company records with bank statements. Evelyn gave them access to the Whitmore office. She also stepped away from its decisions while the review was underway.
Adrian stopped returning her calls.
The money assigned to Sarah’s shares had been paid into an account opened with documents that appeared to bear her signature. Dana showed Sarah the forms. Sarah said she had never seen them.
Some payments had then moved to accounts controlled by Adrian.
I watched Sarah read the figures. I could not understand all the numbers, but I understood her face.
“We went without heat one winter,” she said.
Dana gave her time.
“Does this mean we can pay Mrs. Vega back for groceries?” I asked.
Sarah turned toward me.
“Yes,” she said softly. “It does.”
I had not known she knew Mrs. Vega was helping us. I had seen the extra bread left on our counter and accepted it without asking.
Evelyn came to Dana’s office after the meeting. She wanted Sarah to let her cover our expenses until the accounts were corrected.
Sarah agreed to let her pay the hospital bills and the hotel. She would decide about anything else later.
Evelyn accepted that.
I began to see how hard it was for her to let Sarah choose. Every time she did, Sarah stayed a little longer to talk.
One Saturday, we went to Evelyn’s apartment for lunch.
I expected a room full of people who would stare at my coat. Instead, Evelyn had made soup herself. She admitted it was the first time she had cooked in years and that the cook had supervised.
Sarah tasted it.
“You put in too much salt.”
“You sound like your father.”
They both laughed, then stopped because he was gone.
Evelyn brought out a box of photographs. I saw Sarah at nine, riding a bicycle. I saw her at fourteen beside a birthday cake. In one picture, she was wearing my locket.
“You looked like me,” I said.
Sarah brushed a thumb over the edge of the photograph.
“You look like yourself.”
Evelyn turned to another page, then paused. Adrian stood in a photograph beside their father. He looked younger and happy.
“Can I ask you something?” I said.
They both looked at me.
“Did Uncle Adrian hate Mom?”
“I don’t know,” Evelyn answered.
Sarah said, “He was angry with me when I left. But he had twenty years to decide what kind of brother he wanted to be.”
I wished she had said no. The truth mattered more.
After lunch, Evelyn showed me the guest room that had once been Sarah’s. She had changed the bedding and left everything else. There were books on the shelves and a small chip in the window frame.
“Sarah made that trying to open the window with a ruler,” Evelyn said.
I imagined my mother as a teenager, impatient to get outside.
“Did she have friends?”
“Lots. She loved bringing them here.”
For the first time, I understood that Sarah had lived a whole life before I knew her. I wanted to hear about it from both of them.
When we returned to our hotel, Helen was waiting in the lobby.
She had found a former assistant from Adrian’s office who remembered handling the letters. Adrian gave her mail addressed to Sarah and told her to hold it. He said Sarah was in a difficult situation and Evelyn did not want to upset her.
Years later, the assistant had packed the letters into the box that was delivered to our apartment. She thought she was sending Sarah old family papers, not proof of messages hidden from her.
“She’ll speak to the police,” Helen said.
Sarah sat down.
“Did Adrian tell her why?”
“No. She says he treated it as a family matter.”
I had learned to dislike that phrase. People used it when they wanted a door closed before someone could ask what happened inside.
The detective called later that night.
Adrian had agreed to an interview the next morning. His attorney would attend.
Dana warned Sarah not to expect an apology.
“I’m expecting an explanation,” Sarah said.
I lay awake wondering whether I wanted one. Nothing Adrian could say would give Sarah back the years she spent believing Evelyn had turned away.
The next afternoon, Dana called.
Adrian admitted telling Victor to take the envelope. He denied ordering Victor to leave Sarah injured.
He also claimed Sarah knew about the account all along.
Dana told us the police would compare that claim with the signatures and bank records.
Sarah ended the call and sat beside me on the hotel bed.
“He’s still trying to make me disappear,” she said.
I took her hand.
“He can’t. I found you.”
She pulled me into her arms. We stayed like that until someone knocked.
It was Evelyn, carrying an old paper bag.
Inside was a small blue blanket. Sarah had used it as a baby, and Evelyn had kept it for thirty-nine years.
Sarah touched the worn edge.
May you like
“I thought you’d thrown everything away.”
“I kept hoping you’d come back for it.”
