Adrian had not been the feared man he was now.
He had been a teenager.
“My mother believed him.”
“Our older brother believed him.”
“Our father had documents.”
“Police report.”
“Death certificate.”
Claire asked:
“Real?”
Adrian looked toward the hospital window.
“We are checking.”
“You never checked before?”
“I did.”
“When I was older.”
“And?”
“Everything led nowhere.”
Claire’s voice became sharper.
“So you stopped?”
Adrian looked at her.
“No.”
“I stopped finding answers.”
That difference mattered.
Claire softened slightly.
“What was Rachel like?”
A faint smile appeared.
“Trouble.”
Claire almost laughed.
“My mother was the calmest person I ever met.”
“Then motherhood improved her.”
Claire smiled despite herself.
Adrian continued.
“She climbed trees in dresses.”
“Stole my cigarettes and threw them into the lake.”
“Once released six pigeons inside our father’s office because she thought they looked miserable in their cage.”
Claire laughed.
Her shoulder hurt immediately.
She winced.
Adrian stopped.
“You okay?”
“Don’t make me laugh.”
“Noted.”
Claire looked down at her pendant.
“My mother hated birds in cages.”
Adrian said nothing.
Claire remembered something else.
“When I was little, we lived in Wisconsin.”
“Then Michigan.”
“Then Indiana.”
“You moved constantly?”
“Every few years.”
Adrian’s expression sharpened.
“Why?”
“She said rent.”
Claire looked toward the photograph on his phone.
“Maybe it wasn’t rent.”
Sofia visited the next morning.
Adrian brought her after Claire agreed.
The child stood nervously in the doorway wearing jeans and a red sweater.
No mint-green dress.
No blood.
No screaming.
She looked smaller than Claire remembered.
Sofia stared at her.
Claire smiled.
“Hi.”
Sofia walked closer.
“Does it hurt?”
“Yes.”
Sofia’s face fell.
“But less today.”
The child climbed carefully onto the chair beside the bed.
Adrian watched from the doorway.
Sofia looked at Claire’s necklace.
“Daddy said you’re not Mommy.”
“No.”
Claire kept her voice gentle.
“I’m not.”
Sofia nodded.
“I know.”
“Okay.”
“You look like her.”
Claire glanced toward Adrian.
He said nothing.
Sofia reached into her coat pocket.
A photograph.
She handed it to Claire.
Claire stopped breathing.
The woman in the picture had dark hair.
Green-gray eyes.
Similar cheekbones.
Similar smile.
Not identical.
But close enough to explain a frightened child making an impossible connection.
“That’s my mommy.”
Claire looked at Adrian.
“What was her name?”
“Elena.”
Sofia pointed to Elena’s neck.
A silver half-circle pendant was visible.
Claire frowned.
“She had one too?”