Chapter 8 - The Woman in the Letters
Sadie chose one letter.
Not all eight.
One.
The first.
She was two years old when Leah wrote it.
Ethan asked if she wanted him to read.
Sadie said:
“Martha.”
Ethan felt a tiny sting.
Then corrected himself.
“Okay.”
Martha sat beside Sadie on the window seat.
Ethan remained across the room.
Martha opened the letter.
Dear Sadie,
Her voice shook immediately.
She stopped.
Sadie looked at her.
“You okay?”
“Yes.”
“Then keep going.”
Martha smiled.
You are two today. I don’t know what you like yet, so I’m guessing you probably like animals, loud things, and saying no.
Sadie smiled.
“I do.”
“You’re eight.”
“Still true.”
Martha continued.
Leah wrote about a stuffed rabbit she remembered from the agency visits.
About hoping Sadie liked books.
About being grateful Ethan sent one photograph through the agency.
Then:
I want you to know I did not forget your birthday.
Sadie’s smile disappeared.
Martha’s voice softened.
There may come a day when you wonder why I chose adoption. I hope nobody tells you it was because I did not love you. I was young, scared, and living in a situation I did not believe was safe for a baby. I wanted you to grow up where dinner, school, and bedtime were boring things you could count on.
Sadie looked at Ethan.
“Was your house boring?”
“Extremely.”
She almost smiled.
Martha continued.
I chose Ethan because when the agency asked what kind of father he wanted to be, he wrote, “The kind she can call when she has done something wrong.”
Sadie stared at him.
“You wrote that?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because my father was the kind I called only after I fixed things.”
“Did you hate that?”
“Sometimes.”
She nodded.
Martha continued.
I hope you call him before you fix everything yourself.
Ethan closed his eyes.
That line hurt after the bathroom.
Sadie had called.
Veronica punished her for it.
Martha finished.
Sadie held out her hand.
“Can I keep it?”
Ethan hesitated.
Then:
“Yes.”
“Not in your safe?”
“No.”
“It’s mine?”
“Yes.”
She held the letter against her chest.
Then asked:
“Can I read the others later?”
“Anytime.”
“Not all today.”
“Good plan.”
She stood.
At the doorway:
“Does Leah have a family?”
Ethan looked at Martha.
Then answered.
“I don’t know much about her life now.”
“Can we ask?”
“Yes.”
“Do I have to meet her?”
“No.”
“If she wants to?”
“You still don’t have to.”
Sadie nodded.
The question of biological contact would move slowly.
That was how Leah had always requested it.
Then Ethan received a call from Angela at Harbor Family Adoption Services.
“We found the correspondence Veronica sent.”
“More?”
“Yes.”
A typed letter to Leah.
Another to the agency.
And a voicemail transcription.
Veronica’s voice:
Ethan feels continued letters are creating divided loyalty. Sadie is very bonded to me now and we don’t want to confuse her with an outside maternal figure.
Ethan’s face hardened.
“Sadie was bonded to Veronica?”
Angela sounded careful.
“That’s what she said.”
“At what age?”
“Seven.”
“Did she identify herself as Sadie’s mother?”
“She said stepmother.”
“What did you tell her?”
“That contact decisions belonged to you as adoptive parent.”
“And?”
“She said you agreed.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
Again.
Authority borrowed through marriage.
Then Angela said,
“Leah responded to the forged letter.”
“What did she say?”
“I think you should read it.”
Email.
If Ethan believes distance is best for Sadie, I will not fight him. Please tell him I am grateful he gave her the life I hoped for. I will keep writing letters privately in case she wants them someday.
Sadie had been loved quietly from both directions while Veronica told her she had been discarded.
Ethan felt rage again.
But another document arrived from the agency.
A request form.
Submitted by Veronica.
Request for biological family background update.
Reason:
Potential inherited behavioral concerns.
Ethan stared.
“Did she receive records?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because she wasn’t authorized.”
Good.
Then Angela added:
“She asked whether Leah had addiction or criminal history.”
Ethan felt sick.
“Why?”
“She said Sadie had started lying and stealing.”
The narrative again.
Build a behavioral problem.
Attach it to biology.
Use adoption as explanation.
Then the agency note:
Caller repeatedly asks whether child may be genetically predisposed to instability. Advised against unsupported assumptions.
Veronica had been constructing a story where everything she disliked about Sadie could be blamed on being adopted.
Ethan looked toward the hallway.
Sadie sat on the floor reading Leah’s first letter again.
He thought about how easily adult fear could become a child’s identity.
Then Daniel Ross called.
“We traced the remaining four hundred thousand.”
“To where?”
“A private school consulting company.”
Ethan frowned.
“Which one?”
“North Woods Placement Services.”
The same name attached to the residential academy in Veronica’s blue folder.
“How much?”
“Four hundred thousand?”
“No. One hundred and twenty-five thousand.”
“For what?”
“Consulting retainers.”
“That’s insane.”
“Agreed.”
“And the rest?”
“Two hundred seventy-five thousand went to a private-investment escrow account.”
“Whose?”
“Veronica’s.”
May you like
The school-placement money was not hypothetical.
She had already paid professionals to build a case for sending Sadie away.
