Her expression changed immediately.
“No. I would never have given you away.”
Instead, they made an arrangement.
Richard became my primary legal guardian.
Anna would remain in my life—but secretly, as my nanny.
His parents had never met her, so the story was easy to maintain.
Richard told his family that the woman who had given birth to me had died after childbirth.
To everyone else, Anna was simply the woman hired to care for me.
But privately, she was my mother.
She changed my diapers.
Took me to doctor’s appointments.
Taught me to read.
Held me when I was sick.
She was there for nearly every important moment of my childhood.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” I asked.
“Because your father made silence part of the agreement.”
My stomach tightened.
“He told me that if I ever revealed the truth before he believed you were ready, he’d make sure I never saw you again.”
“And you agreed?”
“I was terrified of losing you.”
She wiped her eyes.
“I told myself that being your babysitter was better than being nobody at all.”
I didn’t know what to say.
So I asked the question that mattered most.
