Emma
It was just her and me.
With the door closed, it felt like the outside world had been cut off. The room filled with questions, but one thing rose to the top. “Our mother?” I asked.
Her eyes widened. “Oh.”
I swallowed. “I mean, how is she?” Is she alive? Is she well? Does she know about me? So many more questions waited on the edge of my tongue, wanting to spill out. I gripped my arm and held tight, physically holding myself back.
“I—” She stopped. Her chest heaved up and down in a dramatic breath. “She’s…” She looked down for a second. “Dead. A car accident.”
I stepped back. I hadn’t expected that.
“She died when I was little,” Andrea continued. “I don’t remember a lot of it.” Her voice was strangled, and she dabbed at the corner of her eye again. “I was adopted when I was five
