The photograph had faded around the edges, but there was nothing vague about the little girl standing in the center.<\/p>\n
It was me.<\/p>\n
I recognized the blue sweater with the white rabbit stitched near the hem. I recognized the uneven haircut I had given myself with kitchen scissors and the gap where my front tooth had been missing. I was standing in front of the house where I had lived until I was six, one hand lifted as if I had been caught mid-wave.<\/p>\n
Behind me stood two women.<\/p>\n
One was Eleanor Bell, the woman I had called Mom for the first six years of my life.<\/p>\n
The second woman was a stranger.<\/p>\n
Or at least she should have been.<\/p>\n
She was young, probably no more than twenty, with long dark hair and a thin silver chain at her throat. Her face was turned partly toward me rather than toward the camera. There was tenderness in that expression that felt too private for a stranger.<\/p>\n
My gaze stayed on her longer than I intended.<\/p>\n
\u201cWho is that?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
Wren pointed.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mommy.\u201d<\/p>\n
Celia Ellis.<\/p>\n
I studied the woman\u2019s features again. There was something disturbing about the shape of her eyes. They were like Wren\u2019s, certainly, but that wasn\u2019t what caught me. The line of the nose, the dark eyebrows, the slight asymmetry of the mouth\u2014<\/p>\n
I stood abruptly and crossed to the mirror hanging beside Ms. Dorsey\u2019s filing cabinet.<\/p>\n
My reflection stared back.<\/p>\n
Same mouth.<\/p>\n
Not identical.<\/p>\n
Close enough that I felt cold.<\/p>\n
Ms. Dorsey saw it too. \u201cMara.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren remained in the chair. \u201cMommy says you make that face when you\u2019re confused.\u201d<\/p>\n
I turned.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat face?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe one where you press your teeth together.\u201d<\/p>\n
I immediately realized I was doing exactly that.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow would she know?\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren shrugged, as though the answer was obvious. \u201cShe watches you.\u201d<\/p>\n
A harder chill ran along my spine.<\/p>\n
\u201cWatches me where?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cSometimes outside.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOutside where?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour work.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ms. Dorsey stepped closer. \u201cWren, does your mother follow Mara?\u201d<\/p>\n
The word follow made the situation sound sinister. The child frowned.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo. She checks.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cChecks what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat she\u2019s okay.\u201d<\/p>\n
I rubbed my forehead. Until twenty minutes earlier, Celia Ellis had been a name I had never heard. Now I was looking at proof that she had known me when I was a child and learning that she had apparently kept track of my life for years.<\/p>\n
\u201cHave I ever met your mother?\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren nodded.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou were little.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI mean recently.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHas she ever spoken to me?\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren\u2019s eyes moved toward her backpack.<\/p>\n
I noticed.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNothing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou looked at the bag.\u201d<\/p>\n
She squeezed the straps between her fingers.<\/p>\n
\u201cWren, if your mother is missing, anything she gave you could matter.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe isn\u2019t missing.\u201d<\/p>\n
Ms. Dorsey and I both looked at her.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat do you mean?\u201d I asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cMissing means you don\u2019t know where somebody went.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat is exactly what\u2019s happening.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren shook her head.<\/p>\n
\u201cMommy went because she had to.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThen she\u2019s missing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d Her voice grew sharper. \u201cShe said not to call it that.\u201d<\/p>\n
The distinction obviously mattered to her mother, which made it matter to me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did she tell you to call it?\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren thought carefully.<\/p>\n
\u201cFinishing something.\u201d<\/p>\n
I sat again.<\/p>\n
\u201cFinishing what?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid she say when she would come back?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhen it stopped raining.\u201d<\/p>\n
All three of us glanced toward the window.<\/p>\n
Rain still ran in silver sheets down the glass.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd if she didn\u2019t come back?\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren studied my face.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe told me what to do.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s why you asked for me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow did you know my phone number?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMommy made me learn it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIn case my backpack got taken.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat else did she make you memorize?\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren began counting on her fingers. \u201cYour name. Your phone. Your birthday. Where you work. Grandpa Daniel\u2019s name.\u201d<\/p>\n
My chair moved beneath me.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat did you say?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cGrandpa Daniel.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMy father?\u201d<\/p>\n
She nodded.<\/p>\n
Daniel Bell had no biological grandchildren that I knew of. I had no siblings. I was his only child.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy do you call him Grandpa?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI don\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut you just did.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMommy does when she talks about him to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
My skin prickled.<\/p>\n
\u201cHas Wren ever met your father?\u201d Ms. Dorsey asked.<\/p>\n
\u201cI have no idea.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren answered for me. \u201cOnce.\u201d<\/p>\n
I turned back to her. \u201cWhen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMommy told me not to say.\u201d<\/p>\n
The pattern was beginning to make me angry, although not at Wren. Every answer revealed another locked door.<\/p>\n
I forced my voice down. \u201cDid you meet him recently?\u201d<\/p>\n
She stared at the floor.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat means yes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Her eyes filled with tears.<\/p>\n
I stopped.<\/p>\n
\u201cOkay. I won\u2019t push.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m not supposed to make him know we know.\u201d<\/p>\n
The sentence was awkward, childish, but its meaning landed cleanly.<\/p>\n
\u201cKnow what?\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren shook her head.<\/p>\n
Ms. Dorsey walked into the hallway to call the principal and update him. She left the office door partly open. For the first time since I arrived, Wren and I were nearly alone.<\/p>\n
I placed the old photograph on the desk between us.<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mother and my mother knew each other.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHow?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBest friends.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDid your mother tell you that?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat else did she tell you about Eleanor?\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren smiled faintly for the first time.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe liked yellow flowers. She sang wrong words to songs. She burned pancakes.\u201d<\/p>\n
My chest tightened.<\/p>\n
All three were true.<\/p>\n
I remembered my mother putting daisies in old glass jars. I remembered her confidently replacing forgotten lyrics with nonsense. I remembered Sunday mornings when my father would open windows because Eleanor had filled the kitchen with smoke again.<\/p>\n
Details like that could not have come from a photograph.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid Celia know what happened to her?\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren\u2019s smile vanished.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes.\u201d<\/p>\n
I barely breathed. \u201cWhat happened?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe said it was complicated.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s an adult answer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMommy gives lots of those.\u201d<\/p>\n
Despite myself, I almost smiled.<\/p>\n
Then Wren added, \u201cShe said you were told something different.\u201d<\/p>\n
My fingers curled around the edge of the desk.<\/p>\n
\u201cDifferent from what?\u201d<\/p>\n
Before she could respond, someone knocked sharply on the open door.<\/p>\n
A custodian stood outside holding an umbrella.<\/p>\n
\u201cMs. Dorsey around?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe\u2019s in the hallway.\u201d<\/p>\n
He looked at Wren, then at me. \u201cThere\u2019s a dark sedan circling the parking lot. Third time in ten minutes.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren\u2019s entire face changed.<\/p>\n
She slid from the chair and rushed to the window.<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t.\u201d<\/p>\n
I caught her before she reached it.<\/p>\n
She twisted toward me. \u201cWe have to go.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe found us.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWho?\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren grabbed the front of my coat.<\/p>\n
\u201cThe man.\u201d<\/p>\n
I moved away from the window.<\/p>\n
\u201cDid you see the car?\u201d<\/p>\n
She shook her head.<\/p>\n
\u201cThen how do you know?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMommy said if the same car comes three times, don\u2019t wait for the fourth.\u201d<\/p>\n
That was not advice someone gave a child casually.<\/p>\n
I stepped into the hallway and saw Ms. Dorsey ending her call.<\/p>\n
\u201cCall the police now.\u201d<\/p>\n
She nodded immediately.<\/p>\n
Wren began crying.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, no, no.\u201d<\/p>\n
I crouched in front of her. \u201cListen to me. We don\u2019t know who is outside. Police can check.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou promised.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI promised I would listen. I didn\u2019t promise I would let someone hurt you.\u201d<\/p>\n
That stopped her.<\/p>\n
Her lower lip trembled.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou sound like Mommy.\u201d<\/p>\n
The compliment hurt in a way I did not understand.<\/p>\n
Within minutes the front doors were locked and the school\u2019s remaining staff had moved away from the lobby. The sedan was gone before officers arrived.<\/p>\n
Two patrol cars swept the surrounding streets and found nothing.<\/p>\n
While we waited, Ms. Dorsey tried Naomi Park again. Straight to voicemail.<\/p>\n
Wren refused snacks, refused water and refused to leave my side.<\/p>\n
Eventually I asked the question I had been avoiding.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhere do you live?\u201d<\/p>\n
She looked at me cautiously.<\/p>\n
\u201cWith Mommy.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know. What street?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t tell.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThe police need somewhere to look for her.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy not?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe said our house isn\u2019t safe if she doesn\u2019t come back.\u201d<\/p>\n
I was beginning to understand that Celia had prepared her daughter for this exact scenario.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat was supposed to happen after you found me?\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren reached into her backpack again.<\/p>\n
This time she removed a small paper envelope.<\/p>\n
There was no address on the front. Only my first name.<\/p>\n
She started to hand it over, then pulled it back.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMommy said I could only give you this after you believed the picture.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked toward the photograph.<\/p>\n
\u201cI believe your mother knew me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s not what she said.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat am I supposed to believe?\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren glanced at my face, then at the photograph of Celia.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat she\u2019s your mother too.\u201d<\/p>\n
I stared at her.<\/p>\n
The statement was ridiculous.<\/p>\n
Impossible.<\/p>\n
Eleanor Bell had been my mother. I remembered her bathing me, brushing my hair, carrying me when I had a fever. I remembered the smell of her hand lotion and the smooth silver necklace she wore every day.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy mother was Eleanor.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cA person can only have one mother who gave birth to them.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren frowned with the impatience children reserve for adults who are missing something simple.<\/p>\n
\u201cMommy said that\u2019s not true.\u201d<\/p>\n
I looked again at Celia.<\/p>\n
Same dark eyes.<\/p>\n
Same mouth.<\/p>\n
A strange pressure formed behind my ribs.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow old is your mother?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cForty-seven.\u201d<\/p>\n
I calculated without wanting to.<\/p>\n
Forty-seven minus twenty-eight.<\/p>\n
Nineteen.<\/p>\n
Exactly the age the young woman appeared to be in the photograph.<\/p>\n
I stood.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren\u2019s eyes followed me.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, that doesn\u2019t prove anything.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cPeople resemble one another.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYour mother being nineteen when I was born means nothing.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI know.\u201d<\/p>\n
I turned toward her. \u201cThen why are you agreeing with me?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBecause Mommy said you would say all those things.\u201d<\/p>\n
The room went very still.<\/p>\n
I stared at the envelope in her hand.<\/p>\n
\u201cGive it to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Wren hesitated.<\/p>\n
Then she placed it in my palm.<\/p>\n
Inside was another photograph.<\/p>\n
Unlike the first, this one looked recent.<\/p>\n
Three people stood on a beach under a pale summer sky: Wren, Celia and an older woman whose face was turned toward the camera.<\/p>\n
At first I could not understand what I was seeing.<\/p>\n
Then my breath disappeared.<\/p>\n
The older woman had dark hair streaked with gray, a narrow face and a tiny scar above her left eyebrow.<\/p>\n
Around her neck hung a thin silver chain.<\/p>\n
My knees weakened.<\/p>\n
Because I had seen that scar every morning of my childhood.<\/p>\n
I had touched that necklace while falling asleep against her shoulder.<\/p>\n
The woman in the photograph looked older than the mother preserved in my memories, but she looked unmistakably like Eleanor Bell.<\/p>\n
The mother I had buried twenty-two years ago.<\/p>\n
On the back of the photograph someone had written a date.<\/p>\n
Six weeks earlier.<\/p>\n
The photograph had faded around the edges, but there was nothing vague about the little girl standing in the center. It was me. I recognized the blue sweater with the … <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":2921,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2923","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-readmore"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2923","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=2923"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2923\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2938,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2923\/revisions\/2938"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/media\/2921"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=2923"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=2923"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/readstoryus.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=2923"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}