The attorney told us not to panic.
That was exactly what made me panic.
“Has Thomas contacted anyone?”
“Not directly.”
“Then how do we know he's looking?”
“The investigator's records.”
He slid a folder across the desk.
There were invoices.
Search requests.
Public-record inquiries.
Addresses.
Dates.
Thomas had been searching for Anna for nearly four years.
The first request had been filed shortly after Lacey's cancer diagnosis.
Jeremy read the documents.
“He knew she survived.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“We don't know.”
I looked at the dates.
One search occurred two months before Lacey married Jeremy.
Another happened after her treatment began.
The last was only six weeks before she died.
“Did Lacey know?”
“Yes.”
“That's why she was afraid.”
The attorney nodded.
“She believed Thomas would use Anna to gain access to money connected to the family.”
“What money?”
He hesitated.
“Lacey inherited a trust.”
I looked at Jeremy.
“How much?”
“Enough to attract attention.”
The amount wasn't the important part.
The important part was that the trust had a clause.
If Lacey died without children, the money would pass to her father.
If she had a living child, it would belong to that child.
Anna.
That changed everything.
Thomas had not been looking for Anna because he wanted to reconnect with his granddaughter.
He may have been looking for her because she stood between him and the inheritance.
Jeremy clenched his jaw.
“He never cared about her.”
“We don't know that,” I said.
He looked at me.
“Maybe not.”
The attorney interrupted.
“We need to separate what we know from what we suspect.”
He was right.
We had evidence of the searches.
We had the trust.
We did not know Thomas's motives.
But we knew enough to take the threat seriously.
Anna refused to disappear.
“I've already spent twenty-one years hidden,” she said. “I'm not doing it again.”
We met in my living room.
Jeremy sat beside her.
The attorney explained the situation.
Anna listened without interrupting.
When he finished, she asked, “Can he take the money?”
“Not automatically.”
“Can he find me?”
“He may.”
“What happens if he does?”
“You decide whether you want contact.”
Anna looked at Jeremy.
“What would you do?”
“I'd stay away from him.”
“Why?”
“Because he has already used fear to control your family.”
She nodded.
Then she looked at me.
“And you?”
“I would let you decide.”
She smiled.
“You always say that.”
“Because it's true.”
The attorney arranged additional legal protection around the trust.
Anna became the legal beneficiary.
The documents were changed to ensure no one else could control the funds on her behalf.
She didn't seem interested in the money.
“I don't want it.”
“You don't have to use it.”
“I'd rather give some to Mom's medical fund.”
Jeremy looked at her.
“That was Lacey's wish.”
“I know.”
She paused.
“And some to people who need cancer treatment.”
I smiled.
“She'd like that.”
Anna nodded.
Then came the question none of us wanted.
“What do we do about Thomas?”
The attorney said, “Nothing unless he contacts you.”
But two days later, he did.
A letter arrived.
No return address.
Inside was a single page.
Anna,
I know who you are.
I know your mother died.
I know your father is Jeremy Tolley.
I have been trying to find you.
We need to talk.
There was no threat.
No demand.
Only a phone number.
Anna stared at it.
“What should I do?”
I looked at Jeremy.
He didn't answer.
“You decide,” I said.
She thought for a long time.
Then she called the number.
A man answered.
“Hello?”
“This is Anna.”
Silence.
Then a man's voice.
“You're Lacey's daughter.”
“Yes.”
“My God.”
He sounded emotional.
Anna's face hardened.
“You've been looking for me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to know you.”
“Why now?”
“I've known about you for years.”
“That's not what I asked.”
The man sighed.
“Your mother and I had problems.”
“That doesn't answer me.”
“No.”
He sounded older than I expected.
“I made mistakes.”
“Did you know I was alive?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After you were born.”
“Did you know my mother was told I died?”
Another silence.
“Yes.”
“Who told her?”
“I don't know.”
Anna looked at me.
I could see anger rising in her face.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“Why didn't you tell her?”
“I thought it was better that way.”
The words made my stomach turn.
“Better for whom?”
He didn't answer.
Anna ended the call.
She sat quietly.
Then she looked at us.
“He doesn't get to decide for me.”
“No,” I said.
“He doesn't get to suddenly become my grandfather.”
“No.”
“But I want to know why he did it.”
Jeremy nodded.
“You deserve answers.”
We arranged a meeting in a public place.
Thomas arrived alone.
He was older than I had imagined.
Gray hair.
Expensive coat.
A walking cane.
He looked at Anna for a long time.
“You look like Lacey.”
Anna didn't smile.
“That's what everyone says.”
Thomas sat.
“I've wanted to meet you for twenty-one years.”
“You had twenty-one years.”
He looked down.
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“That your mother would hate me.”
“She did.”
He nodded.
“I deserved it.”
Anna stared at him.
“Did you know my father?”
“Yes.”
“Did you hate him?”
“No.”
“Then why did you let them separate us?”
Thomas looked at Jeremy.
“I didn't know the adoption had happened the way it did.”
“What does that mean?”
“I was told the child was dead.”
Jeremy leaned forward.
“Who told you?”
Thomas looked at him.
“Your mother.”
Jeremy went still.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She said Lacey had miscarried.”
I felt cold.
The story was becoming more complicated.
Thomas continued.
“I believed her.”
“Then why search later?”
“Because Lacey contacted me.”
“When?”
“Years later.”
“What did she say?”
“She said she believed the child had survived.”
Anna stared.
“And you didn't tell her?”
“I tried to investigate.”
“You hired the investigator.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted proof.”
“That isn't enough.”
He looked at her.
“I was wrong.”
Anna remained silent.
Thomas reached into his coat.
He removed an envelope.
“This belonged to your mother.”
Anna stared.
“How did you get it?”
“Lacey gave it to me.”
“When?”
“Before she died.”
Jeremy looked at me.
“Why would she?”
“Because she wanted me to find you.”
Anna took the envelope.
She opened it.
Inside was a photograph of Lacey holding Anna as a newborn.
On the back was another note.
If you find her, don't tell her what to believe. Just tell her I loved her.
Anna began to cry.
Thomas looked away.
“I failed your mother.”
Anna wiped her eyes.
“You don't get to use her words to make yourself innocent.”
“I know.”
“You left me.”
“I did.”
“You let everyone else decide my life.”
“Yes.”
She folded the photograph.
“I don't know if I forgive you.”
“You don't have to.”
She stood.
“I may never want to see you again.”
“I understand.”
Anna walked away.
Outside, she stopped.
Jeremy caught up with her.
“You okay?”
“No.”
He stood beside her.
“Neither am I.”
She looked at him.
“Do you think people can love someone and still hurt them?”
“Yes.”
“Does that make the hurt less real?”
“No.”
She nodded.
“Good.”
They stood together.
I watched from the doorway.
The past had finally been placed in front of the people it belonged to.
No one had escaped responsibility.
No one had been declared innocent.
But Anna had something she had never had before.
A choice.
That night, she came home with us.
She slept in the guest room.
In the morning, she came downstairs holding the photograph.
“I want to keep looking.”
“For what?” I asked.
“For everything.”
Jeremy looked at her.
“What do you mean?”
“I want the whole story.”
I understood immediately.
She wanted to know who she had been before anyone lied.
She wanted to know Lacey before cancer.
Jeremy before marriage.
Me before guilt.
Evelyn before secrecy.
Thomas before regret.
She wanted all of it.
And I realized the final part of our story would not be about finding Anna.
We had already found her.
Now we had to learn how to live with the truth.
Click here to continue reading: PART 12: Anna’s Search Through the Old Records Revealed One Final Letter From Lacey, and Its Last Request Was Meant for All Three of Us
The Errand That Should Have Taken Ten Minutes Instead Opened a Door My Marriage Had Kept Locked for Twenty-Two Years
Part 11 of 15
