“Not officially. She volunteered with newborns whose mothers needed temporary assistance.”
Something clicked into place.
I remembered her disappearing two evenings a week that year.
She told me she was helping with a church program.
I had never asked questions.
At twenty-one, I was busy trying to become someone who didn’t think about Douglas every day.
“So the baby could have belonged to anyone.”
“Yes,” Douglas said.
Relief rushed through me.
Strangely powerful relief.
I leaned back.
“Then this photograph might mean nothing.”
Douglas didn’t answer.
I noticed.
“What?”
Lucas handed me another sheet of paper.
This one was much newer.
A photocopy of an old hospital intake form.
Most of the handwriting was difficult to read, but one line had been circled.
Infant’s temporary name:
Baby Hannah.
Beneath that:
Emergency contact:
Evelyn Carter.
I looked up.
“Why would my mother be listed as an emergency contact?”
