“Why did you take the money, Rose?” I asked, my voice barely audible.

“I didn’t have a choice,” she said, her voice cracking. “He told me if I ever tried to contact Claire, he would make sure I went to prison.”

“For what?” I asked. “You’re her mother.”

“He said I abandoned her,” Rose said, wiping a tear from her cheek with the back of her hand.

“But you gave her up for adoption,” I said. “We went through the agency. We have the papers.”

Rose looked at me, a strange, hollow expression filling her eyes.

“What papers, Evelyn?” she asked quietly.

“The adoption papers,” I said, my hands beginning to shake. “Richard brought them home. I signed them in our kitchen.”

Rose shook her head slowly, her long fingers gripping the edge of the laminate table.

“I never signed any adoption papers,” Rose said.

I stared at her, the diner suddenly fading into a blur of distant noise.

“What do you mean?” I whispered.

“I was twenty years old,” Rose said, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. “I was alone in that hospital room, and I was so tired.”