Then he whispered:
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“That you would hate me.”
I almost laughed.
“You didn’t even give me the chance.”
He flinched.
“You’re right.”
“No. You don’t understand.”
I stood.
“I spent my entire childhood believing nobody came looking for me.”
Walter’s face tightened.
“And now you’re telling me someone did?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“My mother.”
His voice cracked.
“Kate.”
I sat down again.
“Tell me everything.”
Kate was nineteen when she became pregnant.
According to Walter, she was terrified.
The baby’s father disappeared.
Kate had no money.
No stable relationship.
No idea how she would raise a child.
Walter and Margaret begged her not to give me up.
“We told her we would help,” Walter said. “We offered to take care of you if she couldn’t.”
“But she refused?”
“She believed she was doing the right thing.”
I looked at him.
“For whom?”
“For you.”
That sentence hurt.
“She believed another family could give you what she couldn’t.”
“And then?”
“She signed the papers.”
I swallowed.
“Did she regret it?”
Walter looked at me.
“Every day.”
I couldn’t breathe for a moment.
“Then why didn’t she find me?”
“She tried.”
“How?”
“Letters. Phone calls. Agencies. Anything she could do.”
