Chapter 11
I froze.
The woman stood there, looking at me with tears in her eyes.
She had my mother's eyes. My mother's smile.
But my mother was dead.
She'd died ten years ago.
"Who are you?" I said.
The woman took a step toward me.
"My name is Margaret," she said. Her voice was soft. Familiar. "I'm Linda's mother."
I stared at her.
"But... my mother was Linda's mother," I said.
Margaret shook her head.
"No," she said. "I'm Linda's biological mother. Your mother... she adopted Linda when she was a baby. But she couldn't handle it. She was young. Scared. She gave Linda back to the adoption agency. And then she had you."
She looked at me, tears streaming down her face.
"I've been looking for Linda for years," she said. "I gave her up when I was just a girl. I was poor. I couldn't take care of her. I've regretted it every single day of my life."
She looked toward the courthouse.
"I saw the trial on the news," she said. "I saw what she did. And I know it's my fault. If I'd kept her. If I'd loved her. None of this would have happened."
I didn't know what to say.
This woman was Linda's mother.
The woman who'd given her up.
The woman Linda had spent her whole life hating.
And she was here.
"Can you help me?" Margaret said. "I want to see her. I want to tell her I'm sorry. I want to try to make things right."
I looked at David. He nodded slowly.
"I'll see what I can do," I said.
Margaret gave me a piece of paper with her phone number on it.
"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you so much."
She walked away.
I stood there, holding the paper, my mind reeling.
Linda had spent her whole life hating my mother. Thinking my mother had given her up and kept me.
But the truth was even more complicated.
My mother had adopted Linda. Then given her back.
And Margaret had never stopped looking for her.
Nothing was simple.
Nothing was black and white.
That night, I went back to the jail.
I asked to see Linda again.
She was brought into the visiting room. She looked tired. Defeated.
"What do you want?" she said.
"There's someone here who wants to see you," I said.
Linda rolled her eyes. "I don't want to see anyone."
"Her name is Margaret," I said.
Linda froze.
Her face went pale.
"Who?" she whispered.
"Margaret," I said. "She's your biological mother. She gave you up for adoption when you were a baby. And she's been looking for you ever since."
Linda stared at me.
"You're lying," she said.
"I'm not," I said. "She saw the trial on the news. She came here. She wants to see you. She wants to tell you she's sorry."
Linda's hands started shaking.
"No," she whispered. "No. You're just trying to hurt me. Like everyone else."
"I'm not," I said. "I'm trying to help you. She's real, Linda. She's here. And she loves you. Even after everything."
Tears rolled down Linda's cheeks. For the first time, they looked real. Genuine.
"Why now?" she whispered. "Why didn't she look for me before?"
"She did," I said. "She's been looking for years. But the adoption records were sealed. She couldn't find you. Not until your real name became public because of the trial."
Linda looked down at her hands.
She was crying now. Really crying.
"I hate her," she whispered. "I hate her for giving me up. I hate her for not wanting me."
"I know," I said. "But she's spent her whole life regretting it. And she's here now. She wants to know you. If you'll let her."
Linda was quiet for a long time.
Then she looked up at me.
Her eyes were red. Puffy. But there was something new in them.
Hope.
"Okay," she whispered. "I'll see her."
I arranged the meeting for the next day.
Margaret came to the jail.
I waited outside the visiting room while they talked.
An hour passed.
Two hours.
Finally, the door opened.
Margaret walked out. Her eyes were red, but she was smiling.
She hugged me.
"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for giving me my daughter back."
"Is she okay?" I said.
"She's... she's hurt," Margaret said. "She's angry. She's confused. But she's willing to try. To talk. To get to know me."
She wiped away tears.
"I'm going to move here," she said. "I'm going to visit her every week. I'm going to make up for lost time. However long it takes."
I smiled.
Maybe there was hope for Linda after all.
Maybe it wasn't too late.
That night, we had dinner at David's house.
Clara was there. Sarah was there. Emma chattered happily about school and her friends.
It felt like family.
Like the family I'd always wanted but never had.
After dinner, David and I sat on the porch, watching the stars.
"You did a good thing today," he said.
"I just gave them a chance," I said.
"That's more than most people would have done," he said.
He took my hand.
"Maya, I... I've been meaning to tell you something," he said.
I looked at him.
"Ever since you walked into my house that day," he said, "everything has changed. You saved Emma. You saved me. You brought my family back together."
He squeezed my hand.
"I love you, Maya," he said. "And Emma loves you. We both want you in our lives. Permanently. If you'll have us."
I stared at him.
My heart was full. Overflowing.
"I love you too," I said. "Both of you."
He kissed me.
It was soft. Gentle. Perfect.
We sat there, holding hands, watching the stars.
Everything was perfect.
And then my phone rang.
It was the jail.
"Ms. Bennett?" a voice said. "It's about Linda Carter. There's been an incident."
My blood ran cold.
May you like
"What kind of incident?"
"She's been attacked," the voice said. "By another inmate. She's in the hospital. It's bad."
