That sounded exactly like the woman I remembered.
“And the photograph?” I asked. “Why was it with his papers?”
Margaret considered this.
“Your mother gave him a copy, I think. She worked with us on a small community event, and they took the picture outside the clinic. She may have sent it afterward.”
“You remember her giving him a copy?”
“I remember a copy being made. I can’t swear that was the same one.”
I thanked her.
Before we left, she promised to search the records and contact Daniel if she found anything more.
Outside, the afternoon had turned cold.
Alexander walked beside me without trying to take my arm.
The sidewalk was narrow, and we moved slowly past a row of bare trees.
“My father never told me he paid for her care,” he said.
“I believe you.”
He looked surprised.
“I don’t know what else he kept private,” I added. “But I believe that you didn’t know about this.”
