Chapter 11 - The Other Child
The second account belonged to Maddie Brooks, a ten-year-old whose father had died in an accident at the mill. Detective Vega told Mom only what she had permission to share: the girl's name had appeared on benefits paperwork, and the investigators were checking whether a guardian's authorization had been forged.
"Is she okay?" I asked.
"She's with family," the detective said. "We won't involve you in contacting her."
Mom exhaled, but her hands stayed clenched.
"When Ethan said he could get the second child," she explained, "I thought he meant he could find her. Maybe he was talking about getting control of another account. I heard only part of the call."
That uncertainty was worse than a neat answer. I wanted a villain with a single plan I could understand. Instead, Dad had taken money from strangers who were already grieving and used children's names like empty boxes.
Caleb drove me to school the next day. We stopped for breakfast at a diner with cracked red booths.
"Why didn't you come when I was little?" I asked him.
He put down his coffee. "I tried letters. Ethan sent them back. I filed missing-person reports when they vanished, but Sarah was an adult, and nobody could make her talk to me. I was afraid pushing harder might put you both in more danger. I may have been wrong."
"You should have tried again."
"You're right."
For once an adult didn't argue with me about my own childhood.
That night, Mom asked if I wanted to look at a picture of Caleb's wife, my grandmother. I said yes. She had my nose and crooked smile.
On the back, in her careful handwriting, were six words: EMILY, YOU ARE NEVER A BURDEN.
May you like
I cried harder over those six words than I had cried over the police cars.
Then Mom's lawyer called. Dad was asking the court to let him contact me directly.
