Elisabeth nodded.
“He said Lucas’s mother regretted what had happened. But he also made it clear that regret was not the same as taking responsibility.”
“Did she ever try to contact us again?”
“Not directly. Your father kept her information safe, but he never wanted to force a meeting. He believed the decision had to be yours.”
Emma looked at the photographs.
One showed a teenage boy standing beside a woman in her forties. The boy’s expression was distant, almost defiant. The woman, however, looked straight at the camera with a sadness Emma could not explain.
On the back was a name.
Helena.
Lucas’s mother.
Emma slipped the photograph into her bag.
“Do you know where she lives now?”
“I don’t know her current address,” Elisabeth replied. “But I may be able to help you find out.”
Emma stood to leave, then paused beside the door.
“Do you think my father was right to hide this from me?”
