I stared at him. “What?”
“Travel, accommodations, program-related expenses. They’ve already been covered.”
“W-who paid for it?”
How am I supposed to afford Germany?
Dr. Carter hesitated.
And suddenly, I knew this was the part he had been dreading.
“I was asked not to tell you.”
I stood. “Y-you called a national park to find me, but you c-can’t tell me who is paying tens of thousands of dollars for my child?”
They’ve already been covered.
“I understand how that sounds.”
“N-no, you don’t.”
“Mom,” Hailey said quietly.
I forced myself back into the chair. “How long has this person been involved?”
Dr. Carter hesitated. “Years.”
This was the part he had been dreading.
“D-doing what?”
“Contacting specialists. Sending research. Keeping Hailey’s records in circulation.”
That answer bothered me more than the money.
Very few people had known how serious Hailey’s condition was in those first months.
Years.
***
That night, in a motel near the hospital, I made a list.
Hailey looked over from the other bed.
“You’re investigating your mystery donor?”
“I’m trying to figure out who knew about your diagnosis that early.”
She thought for a moment. “Aunt Rachel?”
I made a list.
