“He tried.”
“And?”
“The number belonged to a sealed adoption file.”
I froze.
Lucas watched me carefully.
“The investigator couldn’t access it.”
“Of course not.”
Douglas nodded.
“Which should have been the end of it.”
“But it wasn’t.”
“No.”
He reached toward Lucas.
“Give her the newspaper clipping.”
Lucas did.
The clipping was brittle and folded twice.
A small local newspaper article dated September 18, 1987.
Nothing dramatic.
A piece about a charity fundraiser held at St. Matthew’s Community Hospital.
There were six photographs.
In one, my mother stood beside a table holding cupcakes.
Beside her was another woman.
I stared at the woman’s face.
Something about her felt familiar.
Not familiar like someone I’d known.
Familiar like a face seen in a dream.
“Who is she?”
Douglas whispered, “Turn it over.”
On the back someone had written:
Marianne Webb.
I looked at him.
The name meant nothing.
