Her eyes moved toward the doorway.
“From your father.”
I threw the Bible onto her blanket. The photograph slid out.
“Who is he?”
Mom stared at the boy.
“That’s your brother.”
“Dad has another kid?”
She nodded.
“Before you and Hannah.”
“And Hannah found out?”
“At the retreat.”
“So she didn’t disappear from the trail.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“Tell me what happened.”
Mom wiped away tears.
“Hannah saw him near the lodge. She thought he was you. Later, she overheard Dad and the elder arguing near the parking lot. He was the man who oversaw the church benevolence fund with him.”
“The elder knew?”
“Dad chaired the benevolence committee,” Mom whispered. “The elder approved vague emergency-aid requests. I signed the checks because I was treasurer.”
I held up the church envelope.
“This?”
Mom nodded.
“Why hide Hannah?”
“Because she wanted to tell you. She wanted to tell everyone.”
“Good.”
“Your father was already saying she was confused. Reckless. Too young to understand what she’d heard.”
“She was 16.”
I stepped backward.
“You remembered that for her.”
“Hayden, please.”
“You saved Hannah by letting me drown.”
Her face fell apart.
“I thought I was choosing the child in danger.”
“No,” I said. “You were scared she would expose you too.”
Mom didn’t deny it.
That hurt more than any confession.
“You had two children.”
Mom cried quietly.
“Every morning, I told myself I’d tell you. Every night, I looked at you and knew I’d stolen one more day.”
I raised the address.
“I found this.”
“She isn’t there anymore.”
“Then where?”
Mom didn’t answer.
So I turned to the deputy.
“I want to give a statement.”
Mom sat upright.
“No.”
I looked at her.
“You don’t get to protect me from the truth after using grief as a babysitter.”
I didn’t visit the address alone.
Before leaving, I sent the deputy a photograph of it. Rose drove me there. She had followed us to the hospital and refused to leave. She could be overwhelming, but I knew she loved my sister.
Rose drove quietly before finally saying,
“Your mother looked terrified that weekend. Not guilty, son.”
“Those look the same when you’re the kid she lied to.”
The address led to a small blue house. A teenage boy was mowing the lawn. When he looked up, I stopped breathing.
Same eyes.
Same jaw.
An older woman stepped onto the porch.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m Hayden,” I said.
Her eyes moved between my face and the boy.
“You must be his son.”
“Eli’s mother stayed quiet because that money was his only support,” she said.
I held up the folded address.
“I’m looking for Hannah.”
The woman’s shoulders dropped.
“She stayed here for two weeks after the retreat.”
Rose touched my arm.
“Breathe, Hayden.”
“Where is she now?” I asked.
“With your Aunt Marlene and Uncle David.”
The woman went inside and returned with an envelope.
“She left this for you. Your mother told us not to mail it.”
My name appeared across the front.
Not Hayden.
Hay.
Only Hannah called me that.
I opened it on the porch.
“Hay, I begged Mom to tell you. I tried sending one message, but Mom caught it and said Dad would trace me through you.
I hated her for that.
Then I hated myself because I was safe and you were home grieving me. I never left you on purpose.”
The boy stood beside the mower watching me.
“What’s your name?” I asked.
“Eli.”
His voice trembled like mine.
I nodded.
“None of this is your fault.”
I wished someone had said those words to me a year earlier.
Aunt Marlene opened the door before I could knock. Uncle David stood behind her.
“Hannah?” I called.
A mug shattered in the kitchen.
I turned.
She stood beside the sink with soap covering her wrists. Her hair was shorter.
But it was her.
“Hayden?” she said.
My name sounded trapped inside her throat.
I wanted to hug her and scream at her at the same time.
Instead, I looked down at her ankle.
“Still can’t hike right?”
She made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
Then I crossed the kitchen.
She hugged me so hard my arm ached.
“I wanted to come home every day,” she cried.
“I was mad at you for surviving without me.”
She became still.
I stepped back.
