Chapter 16 - THE WOMAN AT THE BIRTHDAY PARTY
One year after Elena Morgan finally stopped thinking of her mother's love in terms of invoices, someone arrived with another kind of debt.
Leo and Maya were seven.
Their birthday party was small.
Twelve children.
Pizza.
A backyard inflatable castle Elena immediately regretted renting.
Grace came with her husband.
Diane arrived exactly at two, carrying two reasonably priced gifts and no speech about what they had cost.
Progress still looked boring.
Elena liked boring.
By four, Maya had frosting on her cheek and Leo was arguing that opening someone else's birthday present was technically helping.
Then the doorbell rang.
Elena expected another parent.
Instead, a young woman stood outside.
Maybe twenty-seven.
Dark blond hair.
Gray-green eyes.
Something about those eyes made Elena stop.
“Can I help you?”
The woman held an envelope.
“Are you Elena Morgan?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Sophie Reed.”
Elena waited.
Sophie looked past her.
A framed photograph of Marcus sat on the entryway shelf.
Her face changed.
Not dramatically.
Recognition.
Grief.
Then she whispered:
“That's him.”
Elena's stomach tightened.
“Who?”
“Marcus.”
People did not walk into Elena's life and use her dead husband's first name like that.
“How did you know my husband?”
Sophie swallowed.
“I think he was my father.”
The backyard noise seemed to disappear.
Elena stared at her.
“No.”
Sophie nodded slowly.
“I know how that sounds.”
“You're twenty-seven.”
“Twenty-eight next month.”
Marcus had been forty-two when he died.
The math was possible.
Too possible.
“Were you born before Marcus and I met?”
“Yes.”
That should have made Elena feel better.
It did not.
“What do you want?”
Sophie looked hurt.
Then steadied herself.
“I don't want your house.”
“I didn't say you did.”
“I don't want money either.”
“Then why are you here?”
Sophie handed her the envelope.
Inside was a photograph.
Marcus.
Much younger.
Maybe twenty-one.
Holding a baby.
On the back, in handwriting Elena knew immediately:
Sophie. Six months. Still hates peas.
Elena's fingers went numb.
There was also a letter.
Not addressed to Sophie.
Addressed to Marcus.
You cannot keep appearing whenever guilt catches up with you.
—Valerie
Elena looked up.
“Who's Valerie?”
“My mother.”
Behind Elena, Diane dropped a glass.
It shattered across the floor.
Everyone turned.
Diane was staring at Sophie.
Not confused.
Not surprised.
Terrified.
Elena's voice became very quiet.
“Mom.”
Diane said nothing.
“You know her.”
Sophie looked between them.
Diane finally whispered:
“I know who her mother is.”
Elena felt the old sensation return.
The one she thought she had outgrown.
The moment before a family story cracked open.
“How?”
Diane stared at her daughter.
Then at Marcus's photograph.
May you like
“Because Marcus told me about Sophie years before he died.”
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