Chapter 4
I ran to the front door.
Linda followed me.
“Emily, wait.”
I threw it open.
A girl stood beside the sidewalk with a backpack hanging from one shoulder.
For thirteen years, I had imagined this moment.
Sometimes Grace was a little girl.
Sometimes she was grown.
Sometimes she hugged me.
Sometimes she hated me.
Nothing I imagined prepared me for the real thing.
She was soaked from the rain.
Her dark hair stuck to her cheeks.
She looked exhausted.
And terrified.
But she was real.
“Grace?”
She stared at me.
Her eyes filled instantly.
“Emily?”
My hand flew to my mouth.
“Yes.”
She looked me over like she had been trying to construct me from photographs and letters.
Then she said, “You look like me.”
I started crying.
“So do you.”
Neither of us moved.
I wanted to hug her.
Every part of me wanted to.
But I remembered that I was a stranger to her.
So I forced myself to stay still.
“Your dad called.”
Her expression hardened.
“He shouldn’t have.”
“He’s worried sick.”
“He lies.”
“No.”
“You don’t know him.”
“I know he loves you.”
Grace laughed bitterly.
“Everybody says they love me while deciding what I’m allowed to know.”
That sentence hit deeper than she realized.
“Come inside.”
Then Grace noticed Linda.
Her face changed.
“Who’s that?”
“My mother-in-law.”
Linda stepped forward.
“Grace, I’m Linda.”
Grace ignored the hand she offered.
I almost smiled.
“Come in,” I said.
She entered.
Her eyes immediately fell on the photograph still sitting on the hallway table.
Her photograph.
Then the birth certificate.
Then the bracelet.
“You kept that?”
“Every day.”
Grace touched the bracelet.
“Dad said you probably forgot me.”
My heart broke.
“No.”
She looked up sharply.
“He didn’t mean it cruelly.”
“He said giving me up meant you wanted a different life.”
“I wanted you to have a safe life.”
“Same thing.”
“No.”
“Yes, it is.”
I swallowed.
“You’re allowed to be angry.”
“I am.”
“You’re allowed to hate me.”
Her eyes filled.
“I don’t know you enough to hate you.”
That hurt more.
Linda leaned against the doorway.
“This is probably something you should discuss with her father present.”
Grace turned.
“I didn’t ask you.”
Linda blinked.
For the first time all day, I almost laughed.
“Grace,” I said gently, “we need to call Daniel.”
“No.”
“He called the police.”
“I’m not going back tonight.”
“You’re sixteen.”
“I know how old I am.”
“And he’s still your father.”
“My mother is dead.”
Her voice cracked on the word.
She turned away.
“I watched her die.”
The anger drained out of me.
Grace hugged herself.
“She kept telling me she’d be okay.”
I stepped closer.
“She was trying to protect you.”
“Everybody keeps trying to protect me.”
Her shoulders shook.
“I’m tired of being protected with lies.”
I stopped.
Because she wasn’t only talking about Daniel.
She was talking about me.
I looked at the phone in my hand.
“I’ll tell your dad you’re safe.”
“But—”
“I won’t tell him to come yet.”
Grace looked at me.
“Really?”
“For one hour.”
Linda snapped, “Emily.”
I turned.
“One hour.”
Then I called Daniel.
The conversation wasn’t easy.
He wanted to come immediately.
Grace shouted from across the room that if he did, she would run again.
Finally Daniel agreed to give us an hour.
When I hung up, Grace sat at the kitchen table.
I brought her a towel.
She dried her hair.
Linda remained near the doorway.
“Linda,” I said.
“What?”
“Go home.”
She stared at me.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
“My son lives here.”
“Then he can invite you back.”
“This is not your house alone.”
“Right now it’s the house where you were caught stealing from me. Leave.”
Grace looked between us.
“Stealing?”
Linda’s jaw tightened.
“An unfortunate misunderstanding.”
“No,” I said. “She stole money.”
Grace’s eyebrows lifted.
Linda pointed toward me.
“You might want to be careful accepting Emily’s version of events.”
That did it.
“Get out.”
She grabbed her bag.
At the door she turned.
“This family was normal before you.”
I almost answered.
Grace beat me to it.
“Lady, you were stealing cash from a bedroom.”
Linda’s face went red.
Grace shrugged.
“Doesn’t sound normal.”
The door slammed behind Linda.
I stared at Grace.
She gave me a tiny smile.
For the first time, I saw the dimple.
Mine.
I nearly cried again.
“Food?” I asked.
“Please.”
I made grilled cheese because it was the only thing I could manage while my hands shook.
Grace ate half before speaking.
“Why didn’t you tell your husband about me?”
I sat across from her.
“Fear.”
“Of what?”
“Being judged.”
She stared at her plate.
“Like you judged yourself?”
I went still.
She looked up.
“Mom used to say people hide things when they’re ashamed.”
“I wasn’t ashamed of you.”
“Then what were you ashamed of?”
“Me.”
Her expression softened slightly.
“I thought giving you up meant I failed.”
“But you said it was to help me.”
“It was.”
“Then why call it failure?”
Because sixteen-year-olds can ask questions adults spend their lives avoiding.
I took a breath.
“I guess I spent a long time believing two opposite things.”
Grace nodded slowly.
Then the front door opened.
Michael.
Grace froze.
I stood.
He entered the kitchen.
His eyes landed on her.
He looked like he had been punched.
Grace stared back.
No one spoke.
Finally Michael whispered, “Grace?”
Her eyebrows pulled together.
“You know my name.”
I turned toward him.
“Yes,” I said. “That’s something Michael and I need to discuss.”
His face changed.
He knew I knew.
“Emily.”
“Daniel called me.”
Michael closed his eyes.
Grace looked between us.
“Who’s Daniel?”
“Your dad,” I said.
She pushed back from the table.
“You talked to my dad?”
“Grace—”
“What did he tell you?”
Michael stepped forward.
“It’s complicated.”
She stared at him.
“You’re the man who answered the phone.”
Silence.
Her face went white.
“Two years ago.”
Michael looked at me.
Not Grace.
Me.
And that told her everything.
“You told my dad she didn’t want me.”
“Grace—”
“You told him she didn’t want contact.”
Michael raised both hands.
“I thought I was protecting my marriage.”
I felt sick.
“You didn’t even ask me.”
“You had hidden her for five years by then.”
“That gave you the right to make the decision for me?”
“I panicked.”
“For two years?”
He looked away.
Grace stood.
“So both of you knew about me.”
“No,” I said quickly. “I didn’t know Daniel called.”
“But you knew I existed.”
My voice broke.
“Yes.”
“And you were both too scared to deal with me.”
“Grace.”
She grabbed her backpack.
I jumped up.
“Where are you going?”
“Anywhere else.”
I blocked the door.
“Please.”
“Move.”
“I’ll move if you promise not to run.”
“I don’t promise things to people who lie.”
My chest tightened.
Then Michael said the worst possible thing.
“This is exactly why I didn’t want this happening.”
Grace stopped.
Slowly turned.
“What?”
Michael realized his mistake.
“I didn’t mean—”
“Yes, you did.”
She looked at me.
“Was I going to ruin your perfect marriage?”
“No.”
“Because that’s what he thinks.”
“Grace, listen to me.”
She shook her head.
Then the doorbell rang.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
I opened it.
Daniel stood outside.
And the moment Grace saw him, all the anger on her face turned into something else.
Fear.
“Dad?”
Daniel looked past me at Michael.
His expression hardened.
“You.”
Michael stepped back.
Daniel entered.
“You’re the man who answered my call.”
Michael said nothing.
Daniel looked at me.
“He didn’t just tell me you wanted no contact.”
My stomach tightened.
“What else did he say?”
May you like
Daniel’s eyes stayed on Michael.
“He threatened me.”
