Chapter 2 - Eleven DaysWhen I woke up, I was lying backstage with three girls kneeling around me.
My girls.
At least, that's what I'd called them for twenty-two years.
Ava was holding my hand.
Claire was crying.
June was standing several feet away.
She looked almost as frightened as I felt.
"Where did you get that paper?" I asked.
None of them answered.
"June."
She stared at the floor.
"From Dad."
"My brother?"
She nodded.
I laughed.
It wasn't a happy laugh.
It was the kind of laugh that escaped when your mind couldn't understand what your ears were hearing.
"Your father disappeared twenty-two years ago."
"We know."
"He left you on my doorstep."
"We know."
"He abandoned you."
"We know."
"Then how could you find something he left behind?"
June finally looked up.
"Because he didn't disappear the way you think he did."
The room seemed to shrink.
Ava stepped closer.
"We didn't know the whole story."
"What story?"
Claire wiped her tears.
"The story about Mom."
I stared at them.
Their mother had died when they were five months old.
A sudden complication.
That's what everyone had told me.
My brother had been devastated.
Then, eleven days later, he left the babies at my apartment.
At least, that's what I'd believed.
June unfolded the paper again.
"There are names here."
She handed it to me.
At the bottom were four words.
ASK WHO SIGNED THE REPORT.
My stomach tightened.
"What report?"
June shook her head.
"We don't know."
"Then where did you get this?"
She hesitated.
"Three weeks ago, a letter came to the university."
"Who sent it?"
"We don't know."
"Anonymous?"
"Yes."
I looked at the envelope.
"Where is it?"
June glanced toward Ava.
Ava shook her head.
"We burned it."
"What?"
"We were scared."
"Scared of what?"
Claire answered.
"That whoever sent it knew where we were."
A cold sensation moved down my back.
I had spent twenty-two years protecting them from the world.
Now I suddenly realized someone had been watching them.
Maybe watching me.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
June's eyes filled with tears.
"Because the letter said not to trust you."
The sentence hit harder than anything else.
I stepped back.
"For twenty-two years..."
My voice cracked.
"For twenty-two years, I changed your diapers. I worked until my hands split. I sat beside you in emergency rooms. I took out loans so you could stay in school. I missed your mother's funeral because I was trying to figure out how to feed three babies."
"I know," June whispered.
"No. You don't know."
Silence.
Then Ava walked over and hugged me.
I wanted to push her away.
Instead, I held her.
Because she was still my little girl.
No matter what anyone said.
Then June spoke.
"Dad, there is something else."
I released Ava.
"What?"
"We found a second document."
"Where?"
"In an old storage unit."
"Whose?"
"My mother's."
The blood drained from my face.
I didn't even know she had one.
June reached into her bag.
She pulled out a small metal key.
There was a number written on a faded plastic tag.
217.
"I think you should come with us."
I stared at the key.
"What's inside?"
June swallowed.
"The things Mom left behind."
She paused.
"Things she never wanted my father to find."
The three girls looked at me.
May you like
And for the first time in twenty-two years, I wondered whether the woman who had died had left me more than three babies.
Maybe she'd left me a warning.
