Kate stood across from her and said: “Roy was my uncle. He’s been gone three weeks now. He raised Danny from when Danny was small. Told him his father was an old friend from another county who couldn’t keep him. Moved around a lot when Danny was little — I didn’t meet Danny until he was twelve, thirteen maybe. Roy never talked about Danny’s first years. He enrolled him in school late, with paperwork that wasn’t complete, with a different version of his first name.”
Margaret looked at
the table. “And nobody asked questions.”
“The story Roy told was simple. And Roy moved enough that no one knew enough to ask the right ones.”
“When did you find out?”Kate’s voice shook slightly. “Three weeks ago, when he died. I was going through his things and I found the photograph. Just the photo and an old address and your first name. I didn’t know what to make of it. Then two days ago I found a box of clippings.”
