Page 103 of Everything She Feared

The placement process went well, and Marjorie and George’s attorney helped with finalizing the adoption and ensuring the little girl was given a new legal name: Sara Dawn Cole. Marjorie had always loved the name Sara, and Dawn was chosen as a middle name to signify a new start. The psychologists had suggested they start calling the girl by the name Sara casually, as a nickname. That way it would naturally eclipse, and ultimately replace, the name her birth mother had given her in another severing with her past.

But, as predicted, as soon as Sara started living with Marjorie and George, she asked questions.

“Why aren’t I living with my mom and my dad? What happened to my mom and my dad?”

Guided by the experts, Marjorie and George began filling in the blanks in Sara’s life.

“Your mom and dad had big, grown-up problems,” Marjorie said.

“What kind of problems?”

“Well, it’s hard to understand, but their problems were so serious they started hurting other people.”

When they first told her that, Sara looked at the scar on her wrist, as if remembering, and it took everything Marjorie had to hold herself together to help her child.

“Sara, their problems had nothing to do with you,” Marjorie said. “It had to do with their problems.”

“But how come you’re my mom now?”

“Well, a judge—that’s the person who can make things official, like a law or rule—decided it was best for everyone to put your mom and dad in a place where they couldn’t hurt anybody anymore. And, to make sure you were safe, a judge decided it would be best if you lived with us because we wanted to have you in our family more than anything, and because we love you very much.”

“And you don’t hurt people?”

“No, we don’t hurt people,” George said. “We like to help people.”

“But will I ever see my mom and my dad again?”

“Honey, the judge said with their problems, they can’t take care of you. That the best way to keep you safe is for you to not see them.”

Sara thought for a while, withdrawing, just as she was during their drive from Montana to Seattle, looking from her book, up at the highway, the forests rising around them.

Until the episode.

A few miles after stopping for gas and topping off the oil, a rattling sounded from the truck’s motor. “I bet the oil cap’s loose,” George said, pulling over and getting out. The moment he raised the hood, Sara’s head snapped up, her eyes widened. Twisting in her seat she looked behind her repeatedly. When a car stopped and a man offered to help, Sara’s breathing quickened, her face flushed with alarm.

“It’s happening! It’s happening again!”

George thanked the driver, declining his offer. The man waved and drove off, but Sara exploded in sobs as Marjorie took her into her arms, shushing and calming her. Having tightened the cap and dropped the hood, George got into the truck. Taking in the situation, his eyes met Marjorie’s. As she rocked Sara, they silently acknowledged that their daughter’s trauma was bubbling under the surface.

They continued driving.

Life went well for them in Seattle.

The electrical contracting company that hired George helped him upgrade his certification and license to earn more. They found their dream home in a pretty neighborhood in North Seattle. Marjorie got a job as an office administrator for an accounting firm. Marjorie and George volunteered at shelters and missions. Sara helped, learning and applying their morals and beliefs to always think of others.

But given Sara’s history, they continually told her to never talk to, or go anywhere alone with, strangers “no matter how nice they seem, no matter what they say.” It was a caution they underscored. From time to time, Sara would ask more questions about her past. Often they had no answer, or didn’t think she was ready for one.

“It’s complicated,” Marjorie would say. “I’ll explain when you’re older.”

Early on they frequently told Sara that it wasvery importantshe always remember: “Not everybody’s family is like our family. There are things we must always, always, keep private in our family. Remember that.”

One Sunday afternoon they’d taken Sara to a Seahawks football game, seating her between them. During a lull in the play, she asked questions.

“You said a judge put my mom and dad in a place so they won’t hurt people. Is that place jail?”

George traded a look with Marjorie, then leaned closer to Sara’s ear and said, “Yes, prison.”

“How long will the judge make them stay there?”

---