The name barely registered. I’d heard it maybe twice in 20 years.
“Judith,” I whispered. “Rick’s sister?”
“She’d seen Hannah’s photo.”
Palmer nodded slowly.
“She was his older sister. They lost contact years before you two met. She lived in rural Ohio, pretty isolated, with no close neighbors or family. We’ve been working the tip quietly ever since Cheryl called, pulling Judith’s records, coordinating with Ohio authorities, and confirming that a young woman had been living with her.”
She paused, then continued. “We only came to your door once we were sure. Judith had been raising the teenage girl for the last decade. Different name. The same age as Hannah. Same description.”
“She was his older sister.”
I turned toward Rick. Silent tears were sliding down his face.
“Rick,” I said. “What did you do?”
He shook his head like a child caught lying about a broken cup.
“Marlene, please…”
“What did you do?!”
My husband slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor.
Palmer let the silence stretch until he finally spoke.
“What did you do?”
“I was in debt,” Rick said. “Gambling. I owed people I couldn’t pay. And I’d already taken the money, Marlene. Your mother’s inheritance, the account she left for Hannah’s college, I drained it. All of it.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“Hannah heard me,” he said. “On the phone. She came through the back door from piano practice. She heard me telling the guy where the money came from. She heard the account, the amounts, and heard me say your name.”
“I was in debt.”
“She was 11,” I said.
“Hannah started asking questions. She wondered whether the money wasn’t supposed to be hers and wanted to tell you.” He wiped his face with the sleeve of his robe. “I panicked, Marlene! I drove her to Judith’s. We hadn’t spoken in years, but she wouldn’t turn away a child.”
Rick drew a deep breath.
“I told her you’d abandoned Hannah and me. I brought papers with me, a custody letter I’d forged with a court seal. Judith had never met you, so she had no reason not to believe me. I gave her a different last name for you, too.”
“Hannah started asking questions.”
“You left our daughter there and never went back?!”
“I couldn’t! If Hannah had come home, she’d tell you everything. And then it wasn’t just the debt, it was the theft.” His shoulders shook. “Every year became harder. If I came clean, I’d lose everything.”
I was crying. Palmer put a gentle hand on my arm, but I pulled away and stood up.
“You left our daughter there?”
“Ten years of me begging you to help me look! You told me to let her rest while watching me fall apart every single night! And you knew!”
“I’m sorry,” my so-called husband whispered.
“Sorry?”
“Marlene, I loved her too.”
I couldn’t stop the tears.
“Don’t you dare use that word in this house!”
“I’m sorry.”
Palmer stepped between us.
“Mr. Rhodes, we’re going to need you to come with us.”
Rick didn’t resist. He just nodded.
I turned to Palmer, my legs barely holding me up.
“Judith,” I said. “What happened to her? Where’s my daughter?”
Rick didn’t resist.
“Judith passed away two months ago,” Palmer said softly. “Cancer. She’d been sick for a while. She left a letter behind, ma’am. We’ve made a copy for our file, and the original is with a foster caregiver named Beverly because it was addressed to Hannah.”
