Rachel swallowed.
“I know you won’t want to hear this, but Hope and I have been talking for years.”
Something inside me went silent.
“Years?”
Something inside me went silent.
“Since she was fifteen.”
I stared at her.
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And then I asked the question that scared me most.
“Why are you here?”
“She’s eighteen today.”
I asked the question that scared me most.
“I know how old my daughter is.”
Rachel’s expression soured.
“I gave birth to her. Hope wants to know me properly now.”
“What does that mean?”
“We’ve talked about spending time together. That’s why I’m here.”
“Today?”
“Why are you here?”
She shrugged delicately. “For a start. She mentioned staying with me for a while.”
The world narrowed.
I held up the envelope. “Did you write this?”
Rachel hesitated. “Yes.”
“Hope has been lying her whole life? She was a newborn when I found her. What on earth is this supposed to mean?”
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“Did you write this?”
Rachel looked away. “I exaggerated a little. I knew you weren’t aware that we’d been in touch, and I thought—”
“You wanted me scared before you even spoke to me.”
She didn’t answer.
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