“Okay,” she says, nodding gently. “Then I’ll call her Beth too.”
“It’s who she’s been for the past ten years,” I say. “Beth is someone I’m just now getting to know. She’s not the baby I lost all those years ago.”
The child I knew as Izzy lives only in my memory, a piece of my heart untouched by time.
Tina watches me for a moment, sensing the shift in my mood. “It smells like vanilla and clean linen in here,” she says, changing the subject. She inhales deeply, eyes closing for a second.
“I wish she could live here," I say. "Instead of just spending the night every so often.”
Tina sets the photo down and turns to me. “It’s more than you had just a month ago.”
“Let the healing begin,” I say dryly.
“Elle, your sister is back in your life. It’s what you’ve prayed for all these years.”
“I’m thankful,” I say. “Please don’t think I’m ungrateful.”
“Then what is it?”
“I want to know what happened," I say. "I want access to my records from the group home. Someone lied about me, sabotaged me, and I want to know who and why.”
“It won’t change anything.”
“Why not? What happened to me was wrong. It changed the course of both our lives. And I don’t know that I can really move forward until I get to the bottom of it.”
“Okay,” she says gently. “How can I help?”
“When you talked to Cal… you said he believed I ran away?”
“Yeah,” she nods. “I’m certain he had no idea you were at the group home until you turned eighteen. He looked stunned. Honestly, he looked like he needed a hug. Over six feet of solid muscle, and he just collapsed inside. I could see it.”
“I can’t forgive him,” I say, hearing what she’s not saying. “And he’s not getting a hug from me.”
“How are you and Beth supposed to build a relationship if you’re hating on her brother?”
“He’s not her brother,” I snap. “I’m her family.”
“Elle—”
“Elle, nothing,” my voice is sharp. “The Callahans, Beth, and I are not going to miraculously transform into one big happy family. I can be in her life without ever seeing Cal, or Jackson, whatever his name is.”
“You’re being unfair,” she says. “But have you stopped and considered that maybe, just maybe, we’re barking up the wrong tree?”
I meet her gaze. “I don’t bark, remember? I bite.”
“Ha, ha,” she laughs. “So what’s your plan?”
“I’m driving to the group home tomorrow. I’m going to ask them for my records.”
“They won’t give them to you,” she says. “I’m sure they include details about Beth and her adoption. If it was closed, they’re legally bound to keep everything sealed.”
“What are you now, a family attorney?”
“No, but it makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“Well, I have to try. If they say no, I’ll figure something else out.”
She pauses, thoughtful. “Based on what you’ve told me… the only person who could’ve been feeding information to the Callahans while you were at the group home had to be that Fletcher chick, right?”
