I did.
The girl in the hoodie was not Lucy.
It was Zoe.
Around her neck was Lucy’s silver necklace.
My stomach turned.
“They found that necklace in Lucy’s tent.”
“I put it there,” Zoe said. “So people would think they’d seen Lucy.”
I stared at her.
“Why?”
“She needed time. To leave.”
I stepped back, sickened by what I was hearing.
“You let me stand beside that lake and scream her name.”
“I thought she’d come back the next morning.”
“So did I,” I said. “For 365 mornings.”
Zoe lowered her eyes.
“She found your folder,” Zoe said.
Then she swiped to the next photo.
Lucy was sitting inside the tent, pale and crying, holding the adoption papers and the bracelet.
The Lie That Grew Too Big
My voice shook.
“Where did she go?”
“She searched Elijah and Agnes and found an address.”
“Her birth parents?”
Zoe nodded.
“She told them you died. At first, she was angry. Then she was ashamed. After that, the lie got too big.”
Then Zoe unlocked her own phone and opened a message thread.
Lucy: “I can’t do this anymore. I lied to everyone. I want to come home, but I don’t know how to face Mom. Please tell her. Please make her come get me.”
I did not need anything else.
I grabbed my keys.
“I’m going to get my daughter.”
Finding Lucy
The drive felt endless.
When I reached the address, a man opened the door.
“Elijah?”
His face drained.
“That’s not possible.”
I forced myself to stay standing.
“I’m Violet. I’m Lucy’s mother.”
Agnes hurried in behind him.
“Where is she?”
Elijah raised his hands.
“She told us you were gone.”
Anger surged through me.
“And you believed a 15-year-old without calling one adult?”
Agnes began to cry.
“She had the papers, the bracelet. We were too relieved to question the story hard enough.”
I looked at both of them, my voice breaking and hardening at the same time.
“She’s my daughter.”
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