Chapter 2 - Unanswered Questions

For the first few days after I reached the hospital, I thought surviving meant everything would go back to normal. I imagined my mother waking up. I imagined carrying my brother and sister home in the wheelbarrow, only this time with nurses laughing beside us and Mom standing in the doorway. At seven years old, I did not understand that some doors closed quietly and never opened again.

The adults around me seemed to understand. That was why they spoke softly whenever they entered my hospital room. It was why Nurse Evelyn always sat down before she talked to me. And it was why nobody answered when I asked the question I kept asking anyway: "When can I see Mom?"

Eventually, Evelyn pulled a chair beside my bed. "Your mother isn’t going to be able to come here, Annie."

I stared at her. I already knew. But hearing another person say it was different. When I asked if I had left her alone too long, Evelyn gently reassured me: "If you had stayed, your brother and sister might not be here now."

The twins had been moved to another unit. My brother, Samuel, looked impossibly small beneath the blankets. My sister, Rose, had started making tiny squeaking noises whenever she was hungry. After hearing silence for so long in our little house, even Rose’s smallest complaint sounded beautiful.

Four days later, Detective Harris brought Mom's letter to my hospital room. He was a thin man with tired eyes who constantly turned his wedding ring when thinking. He asked about my mother writing letters late at night and burning them in the stove.

Then, Detective Harris opened his folder. "Your mother left information that helps us understand why she made certain choices."

The police called the abusive man Leonard Pike. But Detective Harris revealed another name in the letter: Daniel Mercer.

"Your mother wrote that Daniel Mercer was your father," Detective Harris said carefully.

The room seemed to tilt. I argued stubbornly, "My mom said I didn't have one."

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He explained that Samuel and Rose had a different biological father—Pike—but Daniel Mercer was mine. When I asked where Daniel was, Harris admitted they didn't know. That frightened me more than if he had said he was dead.

"How many things didn’t she tell me?" I asked. Nobody answered.