Then something unexpected happened.
One investigator studying the photograph asked for my full name.
“Christopher James Bennett.”
He typed something into a tablet.
Then looked at me strangely.
“Have you ever used another last name?”
“No.”
“Were you adopted?”
My heart skipped.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“Just answer.”
I glanced at Eleanor.
Then back at him.
“Yes.”
I hated discussing it.
My mother had raised me.
My biological father disappeared before I could remember him.
When my mother remarried, my stepfather adopted me and I became Bennett.
“What was your original surname?”
“Vale.”
Claire made a sound behind me.
I turned.
Her face had become completely white.
“What?”
I repeated it.
“Vale.”
She stared at me.
“Christopher… what was your father’s name?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“My mother refused to talk about him.”
Claire sat down.
Eleanor moved toward her.
“Claire?”
