Chapter 8 - Elaine's Version
Elaine sat across from me at a diner that smelled like burnt coffee and bacon. For once she didn't order for me.
"I wanted a child," she said. "I had three miscarriages. Richard was already talking about a son to inherit the company. Then Nora died, and there you were."
"You make it sound like you found a kitten."
She flinched. "Richard said we were saving you."
"From my father?"
"From the prison system. From the scandal. That's how he explained it."
"How did Daniel sign away his rights?"
Elaine stared at her untouched coffee. "He didn't. Richard's attorney filed an abandonment statement. There was a forged signature. I signed an affidavit saying we'd made every effort to locate him."
"You knew where he was."
"Yes."
I thought of all the times she'd called me dramatic when I cried. All the birthdays when I'd looked at the empty spot on the wall where a baby picture should have been.
"And the document from 2019? Nora's signature?"
"Richard reused the signature from an old employment form. He had a lawyer turn it into a confidentiality agreement. He'd prepared it in case anyone reopened the fire."
I pushed back from the table. "You helped him."
"I was scared."
"I was eight when you broke my violin and blamed me. I was sixteen when I told a counselor about the bruises and you said I liked attention. Were you scared then, too?"
Elaine's face crumpled. "I was cruel. I told myself I was keeping this family together."
"You were keeping his secrets."
She reached into her purse and gave me a worn photograph. Nora sat on a porch beside a man with kind, tired eyes. Daniel had one arm around her shoulders. They looked ordinary. They looked happy.
"He still thinks I died?" I asked.
Elaine nodded.
"How?"
Her hands shook. "I visited him before the trial. Richard said a clean break would be best for everyone. I told him the baby had died in the fire."
May you like
I stared at her until she looked away.
"Daniel cried," she whispered. "He thanked me for being brave enough to tell him."
