We agreed to meet at the Blue Star Diner on the edge of town.

The diner smelled of burnt coffee and fried onions.

Rain streaked the dirty front windows, blurring the gray afternoon outside.

I sat in a corner booth, my fingers tightly wrapped around a mug of hot tea.

The bell above the door chimed, and a woman stepped inside.

She wore a faded yellow raincoat and carried a wet umbrella.

Her dark hair was graying at the temples, but her eyes were the same deep brown as Claire’s.

She looked around the diner, spotted me, and walked over to my booth.

“Evelyn?” she asked.

Her voice was soft and hesitated on my name.

“Yes,” I said, gesturing to the seat across from me. “Please, sit down.”

She slid onto the damp vinyl bench, placing her umbrella against the wall.

“I didn’t think you would ever call me,” Rose said.

She pulled off her damp wool gloves and placed her hands on the table.

Her fingers were long and slender, identical to Claire’s hands.

“You knew about me?” I asked.

Rose looked down at her hands, then back up at me with a tired expression.

“Of course I did,” she said. “Richard told me you wanted this layout.”

“What layout?” I asked, my heart pounding against my ribs.

“He said you wanted me to stay away so the baby could bond with you,” she said.

“He told me you agreed to let him manage the payments and check in on me.”

I stared at her, the room suddenly feeling very cold.

“Payments?” I whispered.

“The money he sent every month,” Rose said. “For eighteen years.”

I felt a sudden numbness spreading through my limbs.

Our savings account had always had small, regular withdrawals that Richard explained as business investments.

“He told me you knew everything,” Rose said, her voice dropping. “He said it was our secret.”