I smile despite myself. “Those are not?—”
“They are.” Megan places the tray between us. “Mrs. Potter’s lemon cupcakes. Remember how we used to sneak extras after lights out?”
She lets her fingers rest on the tray for a moment. “We still have the recipe. The kitchen makes them for special occasions. Tonight, one of our staff retired.”
“That’s lovely, Megan. And such a beautiful way to remember Mrs. Potter.”
“They don’t taste quite the same as when she made them.” She sits again. “I was going to bring one to you in the morning.” She nudges the tray toward me. “Come on. Have one.”
“Thank you. That’s sweet of you.” I settle into a chair, pick one up, peel off the paper, and take a bite. Right away, the sharp lemon cuts through the sweetness and for a moment I’m thirteen again.
Megan takes a bite of her own, then sets it down. “I’m really glad you’re here, Judy,” she says, chewing. “I never thought you’d come back.”
I plaster on a smile. “It’s great to be back. You all did wonderful things with the place.” My eyes flick to my watch and I groan inwardly. Another minute wasted.
Every cell in my body screams to push past Megan and start searching for my daughter, but I can’t. Not when she controls access to the children’s wing.
So I sit here, nodding at her stories while my stomach is clenched tight with nerves.
“We couldn’t let Mrs. Potter’s work fade.” Her gaze flickers around the room. “This is her legacy.”
“It is. But it hasn’t always been smooth, has it?” I ask carefully. “I heard there were some setbacks.”
“Scandals, you mean?” Megan corrects. “Yes. One in particular six months ago. I’m sure you’ve read about it.”
“I did. The girl who drowned.”
Megan nods. “Her name was Sadie Sutton. She was here for six days before…” Her voice trails off. “When she couldn’t be located, my first thought was that she’d run.”
My fingers freeze around the cupcake. “You thought she ran away? Why?”
She lowers her eyes briefly. “We’ve had a few runaways over the years,” she admits. “Very few. But it happens. Some children are sent here when families are desperate. They resist the structure, test boundaries. It’s not unusual for them to threaten to leave.”
I immediately remember the text messages Scarlett had sent me when she was in the camp with Sadie, telling me that she was doing well and responding beautifully. Did she lie so I wouldn’t be disappointed?
“Sadie struggled at times,” Megan continues. “Her counselor noted she pushed back against rules. When she didn’t get her way, she’d say she would leave.”
“You said running was your first thought. So now you think she drowned?”
“Well, that’s what the police said. There was a major search and her shoes were found near the water. We were all crushed. Mandy called an emergency board meeting. No one slept that week.” She pauses. “It hit us hard. Especially because she wasn’t the first kid to meet a tragic end after leaving our care.”
“What do you mean?” I don’t look at her, just stare at the polished wood of the table as tears fill my eyes.
“We had a girl who ran away two years ago,” she says quietly. “Some troubling evidence suggested that she may have been… killed.”
She’s clearly talking about Eliza Bennett.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Megan. That must have been so hard.”
Megan stands up and grabs a box of tissues. She pulls one out and blows her nose. “It’s still too painful to talk about those poor girls. You try to save them. And sometimes…you can’t.” She inhales. “How about we talk about something else morepositive?” Her voice is softer now. “Or we can just sit.” She reaches across the table and gently places her hand over mine.
Only then do I notice my fingers are trembling. And to my horror, a tear drips from my eye and plops onto the table. I wipe it away quickly, but it’s too late. Before I can contain it, my pain spills out and I’m sobbing.
“Oh my God, Judy.” Megan pulls out another tissue and hands it to me. “Are you okay? What’s going on?” she asks after I wipe my eyes and look up at her. Concern is written all over her face. “I’m sorry if I dampened your mood. It’s just been a lot, the last couple of months.”
“I’m Sadie’s mom.” The words fall between us like broken glass.
Megan dips her head to the side. “What?”
