Kyle looked through the documents.
“My name isn’t anywhere.”
See more on the next page
Advertisement“No,” Linda said.
Book Sleep Studies
“Then how did the police find me?”
Linda removed a small envelope from the file and unfolded a faded index card.
On one side was a child’s drawing of a house. On the other was an old telephone number. Beneath it, written in shaky handwriting, were four words:
**My son. Never forget.**
Kyle covered his mouth.
“That was my childhood telephone number.”
Although it had been disconnected for decades, the police had traced old records until they found him.
“She carried this all these years,” Kyle whispered.
Discover more
Stock Office Supplies
Source Bulk Packaging
Bedroom
“She may have forgotten her current address,” Linda said, “but she never forgot her little boy.”
When we returned home, Gladys and Mia were standing in the backyard, watching butterflies move through the garden.
Explore Premium Cookware
Gladys pointed toward an oak tree.
“Kyle used to climb that.”
Kyle smiled sadly.
“I never lived here, Mom.”
She looked confused for a moment, then smiled again.
“Perhaps not.”
That evening, Kyle opened the suitcase the care center had returned with Gladys’s belongings.
