“You hired me because of that flyer?”
“No.”
“You just happened to find it?”
“I knew your name.”
I gripped the phone.
“You watched me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Harold asked me to.”
I froze.
“Your husband?”
Before Margaret could explain, I heard someone in the background.
A nurse.
Margaret sounded tired.
“Carly, I am sorry.”
“That is not enough.”“
I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because Harold made me promise.”
“Harold is dead.”
“And promises do not always die with people.”
I closed my
“What happened the night I was born?”
A long silence.
Then Margaret said, “Rose needs to tell you.”
Three days later, I drove with Evelyn to the facility.
Willa wanted to come.
I said no.
I still didn’t know what we would find.
Rose was eighty.
Small.
Thin.
White hair pinned loosely at the back of her head.
When I entered the room, she looked at me once and began to cry.
