“No.”
“Damn.” He dropped the papers. “I thought I could trust you.”
Max grabbed his backpack and reached for the doorknob. Sophia pushed to her feet and jammed herself between Max and the door.
“Max, I promise. I didn’t tell a soul. I had the papers all weekend, and I never even pulled them out of my bag. That’s why I’m in here. I wanted to look them over in private.”
“Why, though? What’s it to you?” He gritted his teeth.
“I can’t explain it. Your story touched me.”
Max shifted on his feet. “My parents would freak out if anyone found out. It’s not even something we talk about.”
As she nodded, Max stepped into the room. She breathed a sigh of relief as he flopped down in the metal chair opposite her seat at the table. He reached for the first article.
“Jetmagazine: German ‘Brown Babies’ Arrive in U.S.” Sophia watched his face as he read it. “I didn’t know there were so many of us. I’m not the only one?” He shuffled the papers, reading through the headlines.
“You are not. From what I can gather, there were at least thirty-five children who were adopted from Southwest Germany and brought to America. But that’s only from these few articles. I bet there were more.”
Max sat quietly. “So many of us. Maybe they feel like I do sometimes. Like a misfit.”
“Well, you don’t need to be adopted to feel that way. I’ve never felt as if I fit in anywhere.”
Max cocked his head to the side. “But you know your family.” He reached for the next page.
She wrung her hands. “My folks are not like most. I just spent the weekend with Willa’s parents, who worship the ground she walks on. I’ve never had it like that. All I do back home is work.”
“We all have chores, right?”
She shook her head, conveying that it was more than that. “Ma Deary and the Old Man feel more like employers than parents.” She looked down at the table. Emotions were bubbling up inside her, and she was trying to tamp them down so she wouldn’t erupt.
“I’ve never felt loved,” she croaked. “No hugs. They never bought me a present. Heck, they didn’t even remember my birthday. Never came to school when I won an award.”
“I’m sorry to hear all this,” he said, but Sophia was on a roll and couldn’t stop her thoughts from flowing out of her mouth.
“If it wasn’t for my school counselor, I wouldn’t even be here. Ma Deary forbade me to take the scholarship.” She laughed out loud. “What type of parent would do that? She said my job was to work the farm. My brother Walter stole her car and drove me. I forged her name on my documents. That’s why I didn’t go home for break. I was afraid that she wouldn’t let me come back.” Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but Sophia willed herself not to cry in front of Max.
His eyes were gentle with concern. “I didn’t know.”
“No one does. I don’t even know why I’m telling you,” she mumbled. “Except it feels as if you’ll understand or at least not make fun of me.”
Max slid his hand across the table and covered her hand with his. His touch was so comforting, so soothing, it made Sophia want to crawl into his lap. When had she been touched with such tenderness? She couldn’t even remember.
“I feel the same way too.” His voice was husky.
“Your story, I just wonder. And it may sound crazy. But I wonder if I was adopted too.”
There, she had said it, and the small confession to Max felt like a weight floating off her chest.
“Why would you think you were adopted?”
Sophia shrugged. “I don’t remember much of my childhood. Whenever I’ve asked about our family lineage, Ma Deary’s response was always ‘Stop asking dumb questions, we the only family you need,’?” Sophia mocked in Ma Deary’s shrilly voice. “And there are no baby pictures of me or Walter in the house,” she said. That realization hadn’t hit her until she went to Willa’s.
Sophia had been amazed at the many photos of Willa on the walls in her stately home. On Sophia’s last evening with the Pride family, Ms. Eleanor had taken her into the family room. As they sipped hot cocoa, they flipped through several photo albums displaying Willa atevery stage of her life. Sophia had cooed, but deep down she couldn’t ignore the blinding pang of jealousy. Where was her life stored? Who was keeping track?
To Max, she confessed, “It has always felt like a part of me was missing. And then I heard your story. And… I know I’m shooting darts in the dark. But why did those German words just rush out of my mouth the other day? It feels like I need to try this out and see what I come up with.”
“Well, if there is something here, I’ll help you get to the bottom of it. I can study for calculus later. Where do you want to start?” Max was still holding her hand, and Sophia reluctantly pulled it away to retrieve her satchel. She pulled out three sheets and put them on the table.
