Chapter 6 - Finding Emma
Finding Emma took forty-three days.
The investigator Mom had hired left enough notes to guide us. The adoption agency had operated under three different names before dissolving. The couple listed in early placement records had moved twice, divorced once, and eventually settled in Vermont.
Emma had grown up as Emma Whitaker Hale.
A teacher.
Married.
No children.
A woman with my face around the eyes and Ashley’s way of tilting her head when suspicious.
The first email took me four hours to write.
I deleted the word sister eleven times.
In the end, I wrote simply:
My name is Emily Whitaker. I believe we may be connected through Lydia Rose Whitaker. I have documents from her estate that may belong to you. I understand if you do not want contact.
She replied three days later.
I have wondered my whole life whether someone knew.
That sentence undid me.
We met in a small café outside Albany because neutral ground felt kinder than anyone’s home. Ashley came with me but stayed in the parking lot for ten minutes, too ashamed to walk in.
Emma stood when she saw me.
It is a strange thing to meet someone whose absence has shaped your life without your knowledge. She looked like me and not like me. Softer around the mouth. Warier around the eyes. She carried herself like a person who had learned early not to expect answers.
I gave her the cream envelope.
She did not open it immediately.
“Did she love me?” Emma asked.
I had no right to make Mom sound better than she had been.
So I told the truth.
“She regretted losing you for the rest of her life. I think she loved you. I also think she was a coward.”
Emma nodded slowly.
“That sounds human.”
Ashley came in halfway through.
Her eyes were red.
“I’m not your sister by blood,” she said before sitting. “But apparently I’m in the disaster too.”
Emma stared at her.
May you like
Then, unexpectedly, she smiled.
“Good. I was worried it might be tidy.”
