“Three beautiful little girls.” Irene’s voice wobbled. “Your father wanted to take all three of you but there were others who desperately wanted children. I don’t know who made the decisions on who went where. All I know is that your father and I got you. You were so beautiful. Only six months old. And perfect.”
Adeline pinched her lips to prevent the multitude of questions to which she wanted to demand answers. She couldn’t press her mother.Just let her talk.
“I believe Cherry Prescott and Penny Arnold are the other two—your sisters.”
What little oxygen Adeline had been able to draw into her lungs bolted. This wasn’t possible. She couldn’t be adopted. All the times she had wondered about why she didn’t look a lot like her parents or cousins—the dreams about the water—the numerous pictures of her as a baby but noneof her parents holding her until she was several months old. Those niggling facts that had haunted the rim of her existence her whole life came crashing down around her now.
“Ms. Prescott came to see me.”
“What?” Adeline regretted how incredulous she sounded. She had to focus. Pay attention to what her mother was saying and work on figuring out the rest later. “When?”
Her mother’s lips trembled. “The same day she went missing. She wanted to see you. Wanted to know where you lived. How to get in touch with you. Somehow she’d learned that she was adopted and had siblings. I told her I didn’t know what she was talking about. That she had made a mistake.” Tears streamed down her face. A sob hiccupped from her throat. “I lied to her.”
Adeline banished the questions, the shock ... the ache. “It’s okay,” she placated. “You did what you thought was right. Please don’t cry. You don’t need to get upset like this. We won’t talk about this anymore right now.” As much as Adeline wanted the truth she couldn’t risk her mother’s health. But, dear God—Prescott had come to her mother demanding the truth? At least now they had some insight as to what she had been doing in the Pascagoula area.
And Adeline was adopted. Her whole past was founded on secrets and ...lies.
“I have to tell you the rest,” Irene insisted. “I can hardly keep my eyes open, but you have to know. It may make the difference in how this turns out.”
Adeline pushed away all thought but one—her mother’s well-being. She glanced at the monitors. Her mother’s blood pressure and heart rate had climbed since she’d come into the room. “Mom, you don’t need to push yourself.”
“Just listen to me,” she urged. “The adoptions were sealed by the church.” Irene exhaled a shuddering breath. “Somehow the Prescott woman learned the truth. Apparently, someone else did as well, but I don’t know why they would do anything so awful as this.”
More tears leaked from the corners of her eyes. Adeline gently swiped them away. Her fingers trembled in spite of her best efforts.
Her mother’s gaze searched Adeline’s, then grew distant as if she were looking back, remembering. “They’re dead. I don’t know why she had to do this now. After all these years. But she just kept saying that she had to know.”
Adeline tensed. Was she talking about Prescott and Arnold? How could she know this? “Who’s dead, Mother?”
“Your biological parents.” Irene blinked, looked into Adeline’s eyes once more. “I didn’t want to tell you any of this.” More of those tears spilled. “I didn’t want you to know that you weren’t my little girl.”
“Mom,” Adeline urged, “that’s completely—”
Irene put her fingers to her daughter’s lips, hushing her protests. “I realized I couldn’t keep the truth from you any longer. Not with the situation getting worse and worse. It’s been eating at me.” Pain etched deep lines in Irene’s face. “Was that woman taken because I didn’t help her?”
Stunned all over again, Adeline dug way down deep and summoned her voice. If she sounded upset, her mother would only grow more agitated. “I’m certain none of this is your fault. You couldn’t have guessed what some madman was up to.”
“But if I’d told her the truth would this have happened?” Irene’s head rocked slowly, wearily, from side to side against the pillow. “I should have told you everything a long time ago. I was a coward.”
Adeline made a decision. There was no putting off certain aspects of this disturbing conversation. Not if her mother had information that could help the investigation. “You can help me now.” She had to be careful. The last thing she wanted to do was overtax her mother. The pivotal piece of this puzzle lay in the past—her past. The one she’d had before her parents had adopted her. “You don’t have to explain or to go into any detail,” Adeline said. “We’ll do that later, when you’re better. Based on what you’ve told me, Prescott was digging into her past—ourpast. If that’s the case, all I need is a starting point. A name or place.”
“Father Floyd Grayson.” Irene’s lips quivered. “The last I heard he had retired to an assisted living facility in Waveland. Tell him you need to know about the Solomon family, Quentin Solomon, and ... and the tragedy.”
Her mom’s eyes drifted shut.
“Mom.”
Irene’s eyes blinked open once more.
Adeline squeezed her mother’s hand and pressed a kiss to her cheek, then smiled with all the love bursting in her heart. “I will always be your little girl.”
Irene nodded, the slightest dip of her chin, then closed her eyes once more.
Confusion rammed Adeline hard. Wait. She should have asked if her mother had told anyone else about this. Whoever had taken Prescott and Arnold had to be aware of their true past. “Mom,” she whispered close to her mother’s ear, “who else knows about the adoption?”
Surely her uncle Cyrus knew. Bastard. Was he involved in this?
“Ms. Cooper?”