Addison felt a shock stream through her system when she read the words scrawled on the paper. It was like someone had attached jumper cables to her body and pressed hard on the gas. She’d come to accept the fact that both of her grandparents knew the fate of Roxanne Rafferty and, for whatever reason, had chosen to cover it up. She’d tried searching for her grandfather and had almost given up. A man missing for that many years was probably an expert on how to stay missing.
She stared at her father. He stared back. “So you see,” he said, palms up, “I had to tell you.”
“Why would her knowing I’m here change your mind? Who cares what she says? By now she’s a tired, ailing old woman.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure. I may not have seen her much, but one thing I remember—she was a force no one wanted to reckon with.” He picked an envelope out of his pocket, unfolded it, and turned it around so the front of it faced her. “You see the return address? It says New York City.”
“She’s…here?”
“Well, not quite, but she’s close enough.”
“How long has she been here? What’s she doing here? I don’t understand.”
His face looked grim. “Neither do I. Maybe she moved back to the area years ago—who knows. All I do know is—it’s too close for comfort.”
“Why didn’t Mom want Marjorie to be in my life? Why keep her from me? What did she do that was so terrible?”
He held a hand out in front of him. “Slow down. I know you have a lot of questions. One at a time.” He took a breath. “I’ll start with the last. As you know, your mother was bounced around from place to place for years as a child. The older she got, the more she resented your grandmother for it. She despised her life after your grandfather left. I suppose even though he abandoned them, she blamed her mother for it. Who knows why? Your mother held that man up on a pedestal for reasons I never fully understood.”
Addison did. The bond she shared with her own father was strong enough to withstand anything—even his most recent confession.
“As to your other question,” he said, “about why your mother kept Marjorie from you, it would be best if you let Marjorie explain.”
Addison stared at her father—bewildered. “You say that like I’ll be seeing her.”
He looked away.
“Dad—what did you do?”
“The only thing I could do…I called her. I didn’t want her getting to you before I did.”
“What did you say?”
“I pleaded with her to let me talk to you first. I made a deal.”
“In exchange for…?”
“Allowing her to meet you. You won’t be alone. I’ll be there.”
Every possible emotion seemed to rush through her at once. “What if I don’t want to see her?”
“You must. Now that your mother is gone, there are things about you that no one can explain but her. I know you’re still looking for answers about the visions you had as a child. Marjorie can give them to you.”