Mrs. Wilson nodded.
“I told myself I only wanted to make sure you were happy.”
Her voice broke.
“Then I met you. And David. And little Emma.”
I felt tears sliding down my cheeks.
Mrs. Wilson continued.
“Your adoptive mother was still alive then. She knew I'd been searching. I promised I wouldn't disrupt your family without knowing whether you wanted contact.”
Mom looked away.
“But after she died, you could have told me.”
“Yes,” Mrs. Wilson whispered.
“Why didn't you?”
Mrs. Wilson began sobbing.
“Because by then, I loved you so much that I was terrified of losing you.”
The words hung in the air.
“I thought you'd feel deceived. I thought you'd stop letting me see Emma.”
She looked toward me.
“And I couldn't bear the thought of losing the little family I'd found.”
My mother covered her face.
For a long time, she cried.
Then she looked up.
