“My mother’s attorney died years ago.”
Another pause.
“No, Hannah.”
Benjamin’s voice became quieter.
“Not that attorney.”
I looked at Douglas.
“What are you talking about?”
Benjamin took a breath.
“Three months ago, I received a letter that had been held in trust for me since 1987.”
The date hit me like a bell.
“What letter?”
“From Evelyn Carter.”
My mother.
My knees nearly gave way.
“She wrote to you?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Benjamin hesitated.
“That I was not to open it until my thirty-ninth birthday.”
His thirty-ninth birthday.
September.
Only weeks earlier.
I looked at the photograph again.
“What did my mother tell you?”
“That if I ever wanted to know why I was adopted, I should find three people.”
“Who?”
“Douglas Ellis.”
Douglas closed his eyes.
“Hannah Carter.”
My throat tightened.
“And the third?”
Benjamin said nothing.
“Benjamin?”
When he answered, his voice had changed.
