“I collected every picture of Ruth I could find over the years. School photographs, newspaper announcements, community newsletters—even a copy of her wedding announcement.”
“You watched her life from a distance?”
“I did,” Marjorie admitted. “I was afraid that approaching her would cause more pain.”
Owen’s expression tightened.
“When I first found the photographs, I thought she had chosen to remain silent. I thought she had known where my mother was all those years and simply stayed away.”
“I wanted to explain,” Marjorie said, “but he had every right to be angry.”
Owen shook his head.
“Then I found the letters.”
“What letters?” I asked.
“Letters she had written to adoption agencies, hospitals, lawyers, and churches. She had spent decades searching. Her parents threatened to leave her homeless if she refused the adoption. Later, when she tried to find my mother, they used every connection they had to stop her.”
