Samuel removed another page.
“This is a guardianship-related correspondence,” he said. “Heavily redacted copy. It mentions a Rose Avery.”
Emma’s hand tightened around mine.
“Avery,” she said. “That’s it.”
My mother closed her
eyes.
I stood slowly. “You knew Rose Avery.”
Margaret turned back toward us.
Her face looked like it had been washed clean of every mask.
“Yes,” she said.
Emma rose from her chair.
“How?”
Margaret’s voice was thin. “She was my cousin.”
The room seemed to shift under my feet.
Emma stared at her. “Your cousin took me in?”
“For six months,” Margaret said.
“And then?”
“She became ill.”
“That’s what I was told,” Emma said. “But no one ever told me where I came from after that. No one ever came back.”
My mother looked toward the floor.
Emma’s voice trembled. “Did you know where I was?”
Margaret did not answer.
