It turned out to be five pieces of paper. I unfolded them and on the top page was a black and white mugshot of a young woman, along with her info?—
“Shit,” I whispered.
Lilah returned to the doorway. “She was pregnant with Emmy when that was taken. Shoplifting. I’m not saying anything to Emmy about this because I didn’t tell her I was digging. I also sent in a DNA sample to a database. Got it from her toothbrush. And, well, second page.”
I flipped to it and scanned the info. Several names, addresses…
“Holy shit!”
“He’s still alive,” she said. “Miles Horton. Doesn’t seem to have a record. Her younger half-brother does, though. Extensive one. Currently serving fifteen-to-twenty for possession with intent. That’s how I tracked Miles down, through her half-brother’s NOK info on file with Corrections. Honestly, I wasn’t expecting any DNA hits, but where he’s incarcerated, they require DNA swabs from all felony drug convictions.
“My guess is the two of them went to high school together, although I didn’t get that deep into the weeds. He was seventeen when Em was born, which supports my theory. She was born in LA and her mother and father were both born in Phoenix, not Dallas. That was an easy hitchhike or bus ride back then. He might not have known she was pregnant when she left. She gave Emmy her own last name, not his. He’s married and has lived in Tennessee for fifteen years.”
Took me a second to process that she’d switched from discussing the half-brother to discussing Em’s parents. I stood, skimming through the rest of the info. “What do I do with this?” I looked at her.
Now she studied the floor but she shrugged. “I debated doing anything with it. Part of me hoped he was dead, or a real shitbag, so I could in all good conscience just chuck it.”
She finally met my gaze. “Maternal grandmother’s still alive. Last known address in Georgia. Paternal grandparents are still alive, grandmother in New York state, grandfather in Michigan.”
I paged through it again, stunned. “I mean… I don’t know what to do. She’s never talked about finding them but she’s never talked aboutnotfinding them, either.”
“I know,” she softly said. “When we first met, she once said she wished she could find him.”
Then something else hit me. “What about your parents?”
“What about them? My mother was killed by her step-brother during a drunken family brawl when I was three. My father killed him and was sentenced to twenty-five-to-life and died four years into his sentence during a gang fight. I don’t know why neither set of grandparents took me in, but they were all dead by the time I was ten so it doesn’t matter. I have no interest in finding any aunts or uncles or cousins if I have any.”
I sat on the edge of the tub and read through it again. “I… I’m at a loss. What do Idowith this?”
“I know you guys aren’t having kids. But if there’s heart disease, or cancer, or something like that, it might be worthwhile to know.”
We definitely weren’t having kids because I had my vasectomy two months ago and she was getting her tubes tied in three weeks.
I looked up at her. “I’m going to admit I do not know what to do. You’ve known her most of her life. What’s your opinion?”
“My opinion is you’re better positioned to feel her out, ask questions, nudge her toward making admissions one way or the other.” She crossed her arms. “I mean, maybe he did know she was pregnant and he demanded she get an abortion. Maybe her parents threw her out. Maybe she ran away, but there weren’t any missing persons reports for her.”
I read through the info again, but it didn’t change. “Emmy’s doing so good, though,” I said.
“I know.”
“Why now? Why even look?” I loved this woman like a sister but I will admit this irritated me, that now I’d been brought into this without her consulting me first.
“Did she tell you about her mammogram scare last year?”
I shook my head.
“Was nothing, obviously, but she did mention then that she wished she knew her family history. She didn’t ask me to follow up then, but she didn’t ask me tonotnot follow up, dig?”
I nodded.
“I know she’s a little nervous about getting her tubes tied because despite no reason to be concerned, she’s paranoid they might find something when they do. But she mentioned it again a couple of weeks ago when she was chastising me for being late getting my mammogram. A throwaway comment, just being snarky in that way she has that you know she’s trying not to think about something.”
“Yeah,” I said, knowing exactly what she meant. But Emmy hadn’t mentioned it tome.
“That’s the main reason I looked now, I guess. Because she has you. If it was good news, you could help her. And if it was bad…” She shrugged. “I’d pawn it off on you to decide.”
“Gee, thanks. I think.”
