Page 87 of Harper

“They’re in good shape financially. Credit scores are high. No mortgage on their current home; they own it outright. Howard’s been employed by the same company for over a decade, and Denise was excused from jury duty four years ago for being an at-home mom. They don’t have any outstanding warrants. Neither has ever been arrested. Not even a speeding ticket.” I try not to smile. “But one thing had me worried.”

Harper’s eyes widen with concern. “What?”

“They both went to U of O.”

She giggles, which makes her face so astonishingly beautiful, I have to look away.

“Dirty ducks,” she says.

“Yeah.”

We lapse into silence again, but unlike before, a few weeks ago on the cruise ship, when silence with Harper feltcomfortable, it doesn’t now. Dark thoughts intrude. Don’t love her. Don’t be fooled by her “pain acknowledgment.” Don’t trust her. She’s way too good at keeping secrets to ever be trusted again.

“What do you remember about her?” I ask. “About Moriah Raven?”

“Joe…” she says, pain filling her voice.

“What? I mean, you had a little bit of time with her, right?”

She nods, then looks down at her lap.

“Do you remember anything?”

“I remember a little.”

“What?”

“I only had an hour with her, and I was pretty out of it,” she whispers. “But she was warm. She smelled like fresh laundry and warmed-up milk.”

Tears stream down her cheeks. But I’m merciless. I want to know. I have a right to know. And I don’t care if it hurts her.

“What else?”

“She had this soft, wispy black hair,” she says. A sniffle. “And blue eyes.”

“My hair and your eyes.”

“Yeah,” she says. She takes a breath, and it’s choppy and stilted. “She didn’t cry when I held her. Mostly she just slept.”

“And then?”

“Aunt Charlotte came to tell me it was time to say goodbye.”

How did she do it? How could she bear it?

“So, you did it. You said goodbye and gave her away.”

“I didn’t ‘give her away.’ I made the decision to let a mature, stable, married couple adopt and raise her.”

“Which is essentially fancy talk for ‘giving her away.’”

“You’re being cruel.”

“But it’s the truth, isn’t it?”

“I wished her every happiness in the world. I told her the Calvins would be wonderful parents. I told her I loved her. And yes…then, I said goodbye and placed her in Denise Calvin’s arms.”

“And you traveled the world,” I add, my anger flaring. “Just like you wanted to.”

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