Chapter 22 - THE FATHER WHO NEVER STOPPED LOOKINGJonathan Alder’s letters filled three boxes.
Not all about Lucy.
Some to Catherine during separation.
Some investigators.
Some to missing daughter never sent.
Lacey waited months.
Then opened.
First dated one year after disappearance.
Lucy, today you would be two. Your mother bought cake and then threw it away because she couldn’t stand candles. I kept one slice and ate at midnight. This is not useful information, but if I ever get to tell you who we were, I want some facts that aren’t police reports.
Lacey cried.
Another:
I failed your mother by believing my mother could not do something simply because I didn’t want it true.
Jonathan eventually suspected Beatrice around year three after finding Harold billing irregularities.
He confronted.
Beatrice denied.
Harold threatened defamation/privilege? No need.
Jonathan hired private investigators separately.
He never got Norwood name because Harold cut monitoring after school incident and records hidden.
Helena knew more but Jonathan thought school lead uncertain; he was furious she approached.
He feared traumatizing wrong child.
Thus did not push.
Mistake maybe.
Lacey read:
There may be a family in Pennsylvania. I have been advised not to approach without proof. Every instinct says drive door to door. Every lawyer says don’t. I don’t know which version of father is coward.
He searched DNA databases later.
Submitted.
No match.
Lacey never.
At age 18 he wrote:
If you are alive, you are an adult now. Maybe you know another family as yours. I need to prepare myself that finding you may not mean getting you.
Catherine had similar language.
They learned separately.
Jonathan and Catherine divorced but exchanged search updates for years.
His later relationship ended partly because search obsession.
He regretted.
At cancer diagnosis, he updated trust.
Letter:
If you are found after I die, money is the least intelligent thing I can leave, but it is one thing paperwork can preserve. Take it, reject it, give it away, use it to buy terrible car. None of those choices tell me whether you loved me. You don’t know me.
Lacey laughed crying.
He understood.
Do not let anyone tell you accepting means forgiving what family did. It’s yours because I would have spent more raising you badly.
She loved that line.
Not instantly father.
But voice.
Catherine asked:
“Do you want know his flaws?”
“Yes.”
“He was conflict avoidant with Beatrice.”
“He worked too much.”
“He cheated once after we separated but before divorce paperwork.”
“Not technically affair perhaps, but messy.”
“He loved expensive watches.”
“He was terrible at admitting wrong.”
“Good.”
Lacey needed human.
Jonathan not saint because dead.
She visited grave alone.
Not Catherine.
Sat.
“Hi.”
No grand.
“I took money.”
Wind.
“Thanks.”
She laughed.
“I’m still waitress.”
Then:
“I think you should have pushed harder.”
Tears.
“I think you failed.”
“I also think you loved me.”
Both.
She left one photocopy of bell pendant engraving? Maybe no objects. She took everything.
No need grave offerings.
At home, she texted Catherine:
Visited Jonathan. I’m okay.
Catherine:
I’m glad.
May you like
No demand details.
Lacey was building relationship with dead father on own terms.
