Dad whispered, “Caroline.”
“And Emily,” her mother said, voice breaking now, “if Linda is near you, look for the Whitaker file. That is where the answer begins. Not with Ryan. Not even with Linda.”
The tape hissed.
Then Caroline spoke one final sentence, so quietly that Emily almost missed it.
“The child listed in that file was born under the name Bennett.”
The tape clicked off.
For several seconds, neither Emily nor her father breathed.
Born under the name Bennett.
Emily’s hand moved slowly to her belly.
Dad’s face had gone utterly still, the way it had on the porch when Linda mentioned Fort Sheridan. But beneath the stillness was something Emily had never seen in him before.
Not anger.
Recognition.
“Dad,” she whispered, “what child?”
Before he could answer, the doorbell rang.
Once.
Then again.
Ruth stood on the porch when Dad opened the door, rain shining on her coat, a sealed folder clutched against her chest.
