Page 41 of Ten Years Later
“You are named the appointed guardian of Emily Zielchrist. Her mother, Dana, died in a fire that took out nearly an entire apartment building. A neighbor found Emily in the hall and took her to safety. Several people lost their lives in the fire.”
Mia vaguely remembered seeing this on the news. Numbly she said, “I’m sorry but I barely knew Dana. I mean once upon a time we went to the same high school. Since then we’ve stayed a little in touch but not much. I think there’s a mistake. What about family?”
“None. Dana was a single mother with no family. There is no father listed on the birth certificate.”
Mia stood frozen in the kitchen. “I’m…speechless.”
“I understand.”
“When did she do this?” Mia asked.
“Right after she had Emily. She filed a will with an attorney in Oregon. In addition to the guardianship of Emily, she’s left all of her money and belongings to her daughter. In these types of situations, they’ll be accessible to Emily upon turning eighteen. Should you need the funds now, we can petition for that. It’s not much to speak about. Between various accounts, retirement, etcetera, it’s about thirty thousand dollars.”
“What happens if I don’t take her?”
“She becomes a ward of the state.”
“How old is Emily now?”
“Five.”
“I…I…” Dazed, Mia asked, “Can I call you back? I need to think through this.”
“Certainly. You can reach me at the number I just dialed you from.”
It took Mia two days to decide. In the nine years since then she never once regretted adopting Emily.
The weight of that choice pressed upon Mia's shoulders as she entered her daughter's room. Laying on Emily's bed, Mia sought comfort in the familiar smells of her pillow. As darkness whispered its haunting scenarios—rape, kidnapping, human trafficking—her turbulent thoughts threatened to drown her in despair.
Tears spilled from her eyes. Mia cried, silently at first, then wailing.
A new day dawned. Mia continued to wait. She thought she was losing her mind.
Then the phone rang.
Emily had been found.
28 /CURRENT DAY
Keaton could barely focuson the mural.
But he made himself, managing to move from sketching to painting. Meanwhile, Zane worked on the guest bedroom. At two, they cleaned up.
Outside Zane loaded up his van. “Any word on the girl?”
“No, nothing.” Keaton climbed into his truck and drove away, leaving Zane standing in the driveway, watching him.
He dialed Tessa Gray, the private investigator. It rolled to voicemail. “This is Keaton Young. Do you have the DNA results back? Also, what have you found out about Mia Ferguson?”
He drove through McDonald’s, getting himself and Emily something to eat. Forty-five minutes later, he rolled to a stop beside the RV.
Something felt off.
Inside the RV he found a note on the couch:
Keaton, I went to Mia. Despite everything, she’s been a good mom. I can’t let the cops arrest her. I’m sorry. There’s got to be an explanation. I don’t believe she’s done what you think she has.
He balled up the paper. “Fuck!”
