In a third, George was wearing it on his shoulders.
“His name was Anna,” my grandfather said.
“Who was it?”
Susan’s daughter.
I didn’t understand what all that had to do with me.
“Then why did Mom want all this to remain hidden?”
George replied slowly:
Because Anna didn’t grow up with Susan.
I felt something strain inside me.
So who did he grow up with?
My grandfather looked me straight in the eye.
“With us.
I was paralyzed.
What?
Susan was very young when Anna was born. His life had come down. I couldn’t take care of the girl. Our parents decided that Anna would stay with us for a few years, until Susan managed to recover.
“And then?”
Then Susan came back.
My grandfather opened another envelope.
There were letters inside.
He returned to take his daughter. But there was a huge fight in the family. My father refused to return the child.
How could a daughter take away her own mother?
George’s eyes filled with tears.
They couldn’t.
My phone vibrated again.
Susan.
He still hasn’t told you who stayed with the girl the day I came back to take her.
I looked at my grandfather.
I knew what I was going to ask.
-Who?
George could barely whisper:
“Linda.
My mother.
How old was Mom?
—Thirteen.
The story was finally starting to fit.
My mother and little Anna had grown up together.
Like sisters.
When Susan came back to take her daughter, Linda was terrified of the thought of losing her.
“But that still doesn’t explain why Mom refuses even now to listen to Susan’s name.
George remained silent for a long time.
Then he said:
Because Anna left with Susan.
“And then?”
Three years later they disappeared.
What do you mean they disappeared?
They moved out of town. They changed their phone number. They didn’t leave any direction. We’ve been looking for them for years.
I looked at my phone.
Now you just found me on Facebook?
“Not just you.
“What do you mean?
Another message came.
This time it was just one sentence.
Emily, I didn’t contact you for George. I contacted you for Anna.
My heart started beating hard.
I wrote:
