I had to stop. Then I kept reading.
“Now there is a baby in between. You repeat to me that Anna signed the papers and that she wants the girl to grow up elsewhere, but that doesn't make what we did right. If Walter ever finds out, he won't forgive either of us."
Under Carol's letter, with my mother's unmistakable lyrics, was four words:
“Then make sure
that he doesn’t.”
The truth I had to say
I couldn't tell Anna on the phone. It was past eleven o'clock at night when I stood in front of his door again, pressing the cards against the chest. Anna opened.
“She’s alive,” I said. I found our daughter.
She was paralyzed.
Did you find her?
“Her name is Rebecca.
Rebecca?
“My Rebecca. The daughter that Carol and I adopted.
Anna took her hands to her mouth.
“Oh, my God.
He has a good life.
