“We can preserve the originals. We can obtain the records you're entitled to seek through the proper routes. We can document the discrepancies and speak with the appropriate authorities about what remains actionable. We can also make sure you understand any effect on your identity documents before changing anything.”
“Will my mother stop being my mother?” Nora asked, looking at Grace.
“No one in this room is asking for that,” Amelia said. “And I won't let a complicated history become a rushed decision about your present.”
Grace began to cry quietly.
Evelyn reached across and gave her a tissue.
It was such a small gesture that Nora almost missed the courage inside it.
June found Patricia Lane through an old staff photograph.
Patricia had been a nurse at the clinic in 1992. She was eighty-three now, living with her daughter outside Columbus. June did not ask her to tell the story over the phone. She asked whether Patricia would be willing to speak with a lawyer representing someone born at the clinic.
When she heard the date, Patricia went silent.
Then she said, “Is this about Evelyn Hart?”
Amelia arranged the meeting.
Nora wanted to go. Evelyn did too. Grace offered to stay behind, but Nora asked her to come. Arthur stayed outside the room for the first part because Patricia had said she wanted to speak to the women without a Whitcomb man present.
He disliked the condition.
He agreed to it.
Patricia's daughter served tea and left them in a sunroom crowded with plants. The nurse sat in a chair with a cushion beneath one arm. Her hands were bent with age, but her eyes were clear.
She looked at Nora for a long time.
“I wondered,” she said.
Evelyn's face hardened.
“What did you wonder?”
“Whether someone would come.”
“Did you know?”
Patricia closed her eyes briefly.
“Some. Not all. Enough that I should have done more.”
Amelia asked permission to record. Patricia agreed.
The account came slowly, interrupted by questions and corrections. She had worked the night Nora was born. The baby was small but vigorous. There had been concerns about Evelyn's condition after delivery, but no reason Patricia knew of to tell her the child had died.
Patricia went off shift. When she returned, the baby was no longer in the nursery. The chart had been moved. A supervisor said there had been a private placement approved by the family and the physician.
“Approved by me?” Evelyn asked.
“That was what I understood.”
“But you saw me afterward.”
Patricia looked at her.
Evelyn's voice shook.
“I remember you. You brought water. I asked whether the blanket had gone with her.”
Patricia nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
“You knew what I meant.”
The old woman's eyes filled.
“I suspected.”
Nora felt Grace grip her hand.
Patricia continued before anyone could soften the word.
“I asked the doctor. He told me you were distressed and confused. He said the placement was voluntary and you were unable to manage the decision emotionally. He said reopening it would cause harm.”
Evelyn stared at her.
“So you let me leave thinking she was dead.”
Patricia bowed her head.
“Yes.”
The room became very still.
Outside, a bird struck the feeder with a small wooden knock. Nora would remember the sound afterward because it seemed indecent that anything could continue eating while that sentence existed.
Patricia wiped her face.
“I had three children. My husband was ill. I needed the job. Those facts explain what I was afraid of. They do not make what I did enough.”
Evelyn stood.
For a moment Nora thought she would leave.
Instead she walked to the window and put a hand against the sill.
“I kept thinking I was weak,” she said. “For not demanding more. For not knowing what to demand. I thought if I'd been stronger, I could have made somebody tell me where my baby was.”
Nobody answered.
“Now you're telling me someone in the room knew enough to ask the right question and stopped.”
Patricia began to cry.
“Yes.”
Evelyn turned.
“Then don't ask me to make you feel better.”
“I won't.”
Amelia waited until Evelyn nodded before continuing.
Patricia had kept a few personal letters from colleagues. One mentioned the transfer of the Hart infant and an argument about documentation. She did not have a hidden complete file, and Amelia did not treat the letter as one. It was another piece to preserve, another person to identify, another date that could be checked.