small women’s shelter about 40 minutes from here.”
Michael and I stared at her.
Elaine continued: “Nora came to our house four years ago.”
I felt a tightness in my chest.
“Four years ago?”
“She was 20 years old.”
“Where was she before that?”
Elaine closed her eyes briefly. “Stuck with a guy.”
I felt nauseous. “What a man?”
She looked at both of us. “I think we’d better sit down.”
We went around the cafe to reach a small terrace where Nora couldn’t easily see us.
I hated every second of that moment.
I wanted to go inside.
I wanted to touch his face.
I wanted to hear her say “mama”.
But Elaine kept repeating the same thing.
“If you surprise her, she might run away.”
It stopped me every time.
She told me that Nora arrived at the shelter late at night.
She had no bag, no phone,
and almost no money.
She was frightened, exhausted, and very careful about what she said.
At first, she gave it a different name.
It took weeks before she admitted that she had family elsewhere.
A few months after her arrival, she confessed that she had disappeared when she was a teenager.
“Did she tell you about us?”
” Yes. “
“So why didn’t you call the police?”
Elaine looked me straight in the eyes.
“Because she was an adult when she came to see me, and because she begged me not to contact anyone.”
Michael’s face darkened.
“You knew she was missing.”
“Not right now.”
“But you found out later.”
” Yes. “
“And you did nothing.”
Elaine’s voice remained calm.
“I encouraged her to contact you. Several times.”
“It’s not the same.”
“No. It’s not the same.”
I understood his anger.
A part of me shared it.
But another part of me clung
