“Thanks.”
“Anytime, sweetie. You two holler if you’d like anything else.” She hesitates a moment but then turns to leave.
As she walks away, I keep staring down at the photograph. The woman is looking down at the infant as though she’s the single most important person in her life. So, if this really is my mother and me, then why didn’t she keep me?
“You said you can answer my questions?”
He withdraws his hand. “Anything. And if I don’t know, we can find out together.”
Slowly, I set the photograph down and level my gaze on his. “Why didn’t she keep me?”
“Oh, Emma,” Mattheus says softly. “Your parents were told you died right after birth.”
Horror mixes with my sadness, and I gape at him. “What?”
He nods, expression turning somber. “A nurse stole you from the hospital. We’re not sure what happened after that, but at some point, you were placed up for adoption.”
“Someone stole me?”
He nods. “Your adoptive parents wouldn’t even have known. When police couldn’t find your family, they placed you in a foster home. All the while, your parents had no idea you were still alive. There was a funeral and everything.” He reaches into his pocket and withdraws a cell phone, then taps the screen a few times. “Here.”
Mattheus offers me the phone, so I take it. A marble headstone gleams beneath bright sunlight.
GWENDOLYN VICTORIA KARVER
Born October 2nd, 1989. Died October 2nd 1989.
Gone but never forgotten.
“Karver.” I look up at him. “That’s your last name.”
He smiles and nods. “I’m your older brother.” His dark eyes glisten beneath the lights overhead.
“Brother?” I somehow manage the single word despite the lump in my throat. “I have a brother?”
“Yes. I’ve been trying to find you for the last six months, ever since we learned that you were alive.”
“How did you find out?”
“We were contacted by a woman who knew the nurse who kidnapped you. She wouldn’t give us a name but told us that you were alive and had been placed up for adoption shortly after you were kidnapped from the hospital. She said she couldn’t live with herself anymore, then hung up without giving us anything else. Mom and Dad are—they’re beside themselves.”
“Mom and Dad. They’re both alive?” Is it possible that I still have family out there? That what Mattheus is saying is true, and I’m not really all alone?
“Yes.” His gaze softens. “I read about what happened to your adoptive parents. And I’m so sorry for your loss. Were they good people?”
“The best,” I reply softly as I try to blink away tears.
“You had a good life, then?”
“So good.” I smile, then pick the photograph up again after sliding his phone back over to him. “Why didn’t they come?”
“They don’t even know I’m here. Neither of them wanted to disturb your life. But I needed to meet you. I mean, a sister! I have a living sister. That was a cool revelation to have in my late thirties.”
“Tell me about it.” I look back down at the photograph. She has the same color hair as I do. Are her eyes the same too? Does she have freckles? “How long are you in town for?”
“Just until tomorrow night,” he replies. “I need to get home, but I’m—” He trails off. “I’m hoping you’ll come too. Even if it’s just to meet them. They would love to know you.”
“I don’t know.” The truth is that I would love to go and meet them. But I’m scared.
