Robert arranged the meeting after explaining that Mason and Hannah wanted to understand the historical circumstances surrounding Owen's placement.
Margaret initially agreed to speak with them.
But when Mason arrived, she seemed surprised to see him.
She opened the door slowly.
"Mr. Reed?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She studied his face.
Then her expression changed.
"Oh."
Mason waited.
She stepped aside.
"Please come in."
The living room was filled with books, family photographs, and several plants.
Margaret moved carefully, using a walking stick.
Robert introduced everyone.
Mason sat opposite her.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Margaret looked at him.
"You were the older brother."
Mason nodded.
"Yes."
She lowered her eyes.
"I remember."
Mason's hands tightened.
"You remember me?"
"I remember the boy who kept asking to see his brother."
Mason swallowed.
"Why didn't you let me?"
Margaret looked toward the window.
"I wasn't the final decision-maker."
"But you worked on the case."
"Yes."
"You knew I was asking."
"Yes."
"Did Owen know?"
Margaret closed her eyes.
"I believe he did."
Mason leaned forward.
"Believe?"
She opened her eyes.
"There were several people involved. I cannot tell you exactly what every person said to him."
"Did you tell him I was looking?"
Margaret remained silent.
Then she said, "I told him that his brother had made contact."
Mason stared.
"How old was he?"
"Eight."
"How did he react?"
Margaret's eyes became wet.
"He cried."
Mason looked down.
"What did he say?"
She took a breath.
"He asked whether you were coming to get him."
Mason's jaw tightened.
"What did you tell him?"
"I told him the adults were working on the arrangements."
"Did you know I was being told the opposite?"
Margaret nodded slowly.
"I knew there were concerns about your age and your circumstances."
"I was eighteen."
"You had no stable housing at the time."
"I was working."
"I know."
"I had a place to live."
"It was considered temporary."
Mason stared at her.
"Did anyone ask me what I could provide?"
Margaret shook her head.
"No."
"Did anyone ask whether I could visit?"
"No."
"Did anyone explain why my requests were denied?"
She looked down.
"No."
The room became very quiet.
Margaret folded her hands.
"There were rules at the time. There were concerns about reunification, stability, and the children's adjustment. Some of those rules were applied too rigidly."
Mason spoke quietly.
"Too rigidly?"
She nodded.
"Looking back, I believe mistakes were made."
"How many?"
Margaret did not answer.
Mason leaned back.
He was not angry in the way Bear would have been angry.
His anger was quieter.
It was the kind that came from imagining a little boy waiting beside a window, clutching a teddy bear, while adults discussed whether his brother was suitable to visit.
"Did Owen believe I had stopped trying?"
Margaret's face crumpled.
"At one point, yes."
Mason closed his eyes.
Margaret continued.
"He asked for you repeatedly. He wanted to know whether you were coming. Eventually, the agency recommended that the foster family focus on helping him adjust to his new placement."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning they encouraged him to form attachments within the new family rather than continue expecting contact that might not happen."
Mason looked at her.
"Did they tell him I didn't want him?"
Margaret shook her head.
"I don't remember anyone saying that."
"Did they tell him I couldn't take him?"
"That may have been explained."
"May have been?"
Margaret looked exhausted.
"I am seventy-nine years old, Mr. Reed. I remember parts of that case, but I cannot reconstruct every conversation."
Mason nodded.
He understood.
But understanding did not make the truth easier.
Robert asked a question.
"Do you remember the adoptive family?"
Margaret nodded.
"The Carters."
"Daniel's adoptive parents?"
"Yes. They were a decent couple."
"Did they know Owen had an older brother?"
Margaret hesitated.
"Yes."
"Did they receive the contact request?"
"I believe so."
Mason stared at her.
"Then why didn't they contact me?"
Margaret looked toward the floor.
"That is something I cannot answer."
Robert placed a document on the table.
"Would you be willing to provide a written statement about what you remember?"
Margaret studied it.
Then she nodded.
"Yes."
Mason stood.
Before leaving, he turned toward her.
"Did Owen ever ask you to tell me something?"
Margaret looked up.
"Yes."
Mason waited.
"He asked me to tell you that he still had the bear."
Mason felt his chest tighten.
"Did you?"
Margaret shook her head.
"No."
"Why?"
Her eyes filled.
"I don't have a good answer."
Mason stood in silence.
Then he said, "Thank you for telling me now."
He walked toward the door.
Margaret called after him.
"Mr. Reed?"
He turned.
"I'm sorry."