Terry’s number was near the top.
“I’m calling her.”
Stephanie didn’t try to stop me again.
I stepped into the kitchen and dialed.
Terry answered.
Terry’s number was near the top.
“Steph? Everything okay? You cut the call so suddenly.”
“Terry?”
“Yes?”
“I’m Anna. Stephanie’s sister.”
Silence.
Then, quietly, “Oh. Is she okay?”
I tightened my grip on the counter.
“You cut the call so suddenly.”
“Before I answer that, what exactly has Stephanie told you about Bev?”
Terry laughed nervously.
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
“Who do you think Beverly is?”
Another pause.
“Stephanie’s daughter.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”
“No.”
“What?”
“I’m Beverly’s mother.”
Silence.
“Anna… are you telling me Stephanie doesn’t have a daughter?”
“She doesn’t.”
“But Bev is real?”
“I’m Beverly’s mother.”
“She’s my daughter.”
“How long have you known Stephanie?”
“About a year and a half.”
“And all that time you thought she was raising Bev?”
“Yes.”
Terry took a breath.
“She’s my daughter.”
“We’ve talked for hours, Anna: school, bedtime, losing teeth. I thought those were her memories.”
“They weren’t.”
“What else has she lied about?”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
Terry paused.
“She told me Bev wanted a brother or sister.”
