Daniel refused.
Arthur kept pushing.
“He said we were nineteen-year-old children pretending love paid hospital bills.”
Margaret’s voice shook.
“He said two premature babies would destroy us.”
Evelyn could barely comprehend what she was hearing.
“So you gave her away?”
Margaret flinched.
“No.”
“What do you call it?”
“Your father never agreed.”
“But you did?”
“I signed papers.”
Evelyn felt tears burn her eyes.
“Without Dad?”
“I thought they were temporary guardianship papers.”
Silence filled the room.
Margaret looked at her hands.
“My father’s attorney brought them.”
“Did you read them?”
“I was nineteen. I had been awake almost thirty hours. You had stopped breathing twice during your first week home. Nora was still in the hospital. Your father was working sixteen-hour days.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“No.”
Margaret looked up.
“I did not read them carefully enough.”
Evelyn sat because her legs had begun shaking.
Margaret continued.
The papers transferred Nora’s custody.
By the time Daniel discovered what happened, Nora had already been placed with a couple in Wisconsin.
Thomas and Elaine Bell.
Arthur Caldwell threatened to prosecute Daniel when he tried to locate them.
He claimed Daniel had signed documents too.
“He forged Dad’s signature?”
“I believe so.”
“You believe?”
“The attorney disappeared three years later. My father denied everything.”
“Why didn’t you go to police?”
Margaret laughed bitterly.
“Because my father owned half the people we would have gone to.”
“That is not an answer.”
“I was afraid.”
The words came out almost as a whisper.
Evelyn stared at her mother.
“And Dad?”
“He wanted to fight.”
“What stopped him?”
“Me.”
Evelyn looked away.
Margaret’s crying grew quieter.
“I had you. I was terrified my father would find some way to take you too.”
“So you let him take Nora.”
Margaret closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
The honesty hurt more than an excuse would have.
Evelyn stood abruptly and walked toward the window.
Outside, white chairs lined the lawn.
Two hundred guests sat beneath a canopy of flowers.
Some had begun standing.
Others were checking phones.
From this distance they looked like pieces in a miniature world where nothing important was happening.
Evelyn pressed one hand to the glass.
“How long did Dad know where she was?”
“We didn’t know.”
“You never searched?”
“We searched for years.”
Evelyn turned.
“I have never heard her name.”
“Your father and I made a terrible decision.”
“What decision?”
“When you were six, we finally located the Bells.”
Evelyn felt another shock.
“You knew where she was?”
Margaret nodded.
“Your father drove to Wisconsin.”
“Did he see her?”
“Yes.”