Clare continued.
“I showed her the photograph.”
“What did she say?”
“She dropped a glass.”
“That seems revealing.”
Clare laughed once.
Then silence.
“She knew, Luke.”
His expression hardened.
“How much?”
“Everything.”
Luke closed his eyes.
Clare’s voice broke.
“She knew Rachel was looking for me.”
The kitchen felt colder.
Luke looked toward the sealed box.
“What did Evelyn tell you?”
“She said my father and she were told my birth mother was unmarried, unstable, and voluntarily surrendering me.”
“That could have been what the adoption lawyer told them.”
“Yes.”
“For how long did they believe that?”
Clare did not answer immediately.
“Until I was fourteen.”
Luke’s stomach tightened.
“What happened then?”
“My birth mother found us.”
“Margaret?”
“Yes.”
“She wrote to my parents.”
Luke stared.
“What did they do?”
“My mother says my father was terrified.”
“Of what?”
“Losing me.”
“You were fourteen.”
“I know.”
“They thought Margaret could take you?”
“Not legally.”
Clare’s voice turned bitter.
“But fear doesn’t need legal advice.”
Luke said nothing.
“My mother said Dad hired investigators.”
“They verified Margaret was telling the truth.”
Luke’s hand tightened around the phone.
“So they knew the adoption was fraudulent.”
“Yes.”
“And they said nothing.”
“Yes.”
“For twenty years?”
Clare began crying quietly.
Luke waited.
“She has a box.”
“What box?”
“Letters.”
Luke looked toward Rachel’s box.
“From Margaret?”
“And Rachel.”
His jaw tightened.
“How many?”
“Thirty-seven.”
Luke stood.
The chair scraped backward.
“Rachel wrote that she sent three.”
“There are three.”
Luke closed his eyes.
All three reached Evelyn Donovan.
All three were hidden.
Clare continued.
“My mother says she intercepted them before my office saw them.”
“Why?”
“She said she had already lost my father.”
“She was afraid if I learned the truth, I would leave her too.”
Luke felt anger rise.
“She stole Rachel’s last chance to speak to you.”
“I know.”
“She knew Rachel was dying?”
“Yes.”
Luke walked toward the sink.
He needed distance from the box.
From the whole thing.
Clare whispered:
“I yelled at her.”
“I would have.”
“I said things…”
“You’re allowed.”
“I told her she wasn’t my mother.”
Luke stopped.
Clare’s crying became more obvious.
“I didn’t mean it.”
Luke leaned against the counter.
“Maybe part of you did in that moment.”
“She raised me.”
“Yes.”
“She loved me.”
“I’m sure.”
“She lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“All those things can be true?”
Luke thought of grief group.
Of loving Rachel and being angry that she had hidden this entire search.
Of understanding she had reasons and still wishing she had trusted him sooner.
“Yes.”
Clare breathed.
“My mother asked me if I’m going to meet Margaret.”
“What did you say?”