Chapter 3
Angela spread the letter across her desk.
I recognized the agency’s old logo. I had stared at it on so many envelopes when Grayson was little, hoping one would finally tell me what his future would be.
The letter said Valerie Sutton was the child’s mother and did not wish to be contacted. It asked that no information about him be sent to her home.
“There’s no request to see him,” Angela said. “No request for updates.”
“Could her father have written it?”
“He could have. The signature alone won’t answer that.”
Grayson sat beside me. He had asked to leave school early to see the document. I watched him read every word.
“What did the agency do after receiving it?” he asked.
“They continued trying to verify the information,” Angela said. “But the address and birth details in the letter didn’t match what they had. They could not establish that the writer was your mother.”
“Did they tell my mom?”
“They told her an unverified lead was being checked. They couldn’t share the name.”
I remembered that year. A caseworker had said they were following information that might identify his birth family. Then the lead went nowhere. I had put another month of uncertainty behind me and carried on with diapers and night shifts.
Grayson turned the page over. There was nothing on the back.
“I want to know why Valerie came now,” he said.
“She told you she found a folder after her father died,” I said.
“He died two years ago.”
Angela looked up. “I’ll ask for the dates and any records she relied on.”
On our way out, Grayson stopped beside my car.
“Do you think she wants me because I’m almost grown up?” he asked.
“I don’t know.”
“She said she’d missed seventeen birthdays. She didn’t ask what I did on any of them.”
His voice cracked on the last word. I stood beside him while he looked at the pavement.
“You can ask her,” I said. “You can also decide you need time.”
He got into the car. We drove home without turning on the radio.
That evening, Valerie called me directly. I let it ring once before answering.
“I’d like to see Grayson,” she said.
“He knows how to reach you.”
“You’re keeping him away.”
I looked at the kitchen doorway. Grayson stood there. He shook his head and held out his hand for the phone.
“I’m here,” he told her. “Mom didn’t stop me from anything.”
Valerie’s voice changed. I could hear the warmth in it even from where I stood.
“I just want another chance to talk.”
“Then answer my question. When did you find my name?”
There was a pause.
“I found a file after my father died. I didn’t know where to begin.”
“That was two years ago.”
“I was trying to make sure you had a good life.”
“You could have asked me.”
“I was afraid you’d hate me.”
Grayson closed his eyes.
“I’m going to end this call,” he said. “You can tell your lawyer I spoke for myself.”
He handed the phone back. I saw the effort it had taken him to keep his voice steady.
I asked whether he wanted to talk. He said he wanted to run. He changed clothes and went around the block twice. When he came back, he ate half a sandwich and went to his room.
I did not follow him. An hour later, I knocked.
“Come in,” he said.
He sat at his desk holding the blue blanket. I had kept it in a box with his baby pictures. He had taken it out himself.
“Did you ever think I belonged with someone else?” he asked.
“Yes,” I answered honestly. “When you were a baby, I worried that someone who loved you might be looking for you and couldn’t find you.”
“What changed?”
“I watched you grow. I learned what you needed. You called this home, and I kept trying to make sure the law recognized it.”
“Did you give up on the adoption?”
“No. We kept asking what could be done. The record problems made it slow, and then you got older. I should have explained more about that to you.”
He ran his thumb over a frayed edge of the blanket.
“I knew you were my guardian. I never thought it meant someone could walk in and take me.”
“I know. I didn’t think this would happen either.”
He looked up.
“If the judge lets her, can she make me go?”
“Angela is fighting for you to stay. The judge heard what you said. We’ll keep making sure your wishes are heard.”
He nodded. I sat on the floor beside his chair until he was ready to put the blanket away.
May you like
The next morning, Angela called with an update. A woman named Tessa Moore had contacted her after seeing a news report about the case. Tessa said she had worked for Valerie’s family when Grayson was born.
She remembered the blue blanket.
