Rose had lived in the next town over for fifteen years.

“I need to lie down,” I said, my voice barely audible.

“Evelyn, please,” he said, reaching for me again. “Don’t do this. Look at what we have. Look at Claire.”

“I am looking at Claire,” I said. “And now I’m looking at you.”

I turned away from him before he could say another word.

I walked up the stairs, my knees feeling weak, my mind racing.

He had answered too quickly about the lawyer, and his eyes had darted to his office twice during our conversation.

If the adoption was handled legally through a private placement, why had Rose looked so terrified today?

Why had she lived so close all these years without ever trying to see Claire?

I reached the top of the stairs and looked down the long, carpeted hallway.

At the far end was the door to Richard’s home office.

The heavy oak door was closed, as it almost always was.

I went into our bedroom, shut the door, and sat on the edge of the mattress.