My mom’s hand gripped the couch so tightly her knuckles went white. My dad’s expression hardened to stone.
Neither spoke.
“She told me that…” My voice wavered. “She told me that you lied. That you tricked her into giving me up.”
My mother let out a shaky breath, and something about that sound—so raw, so full of pain—made my stomach twist.
“Emma,” she said softly. “That is absolutely not true.”
“Then why did she say it?” I demanded.
Dad exhaled slowly through his nose, his tone controlled. “Because she knew it would get to you.”
I shook my head. “You don’t know that.”
“Emma, we do,” Mom said, her voice breaking as tears filled her eyes. “We knew this day might come. We just didn’t think it would be like this.”
She reached for my hand, but I pulled away. She flinched as though I’d struck her.
“I just…” I swallowed hard. “She wants to get to know me. And I think I want to know her too.”
