“That is your defense?”
“No.”
Evelyn began crying.
“I called St. Mary’s first. Sister Margaret agreed to leave the side entrance open and watch from inside. We needed the babies found without the maternity residence claiming custody.”
“We?”
“Sister Margaret and me.”
Richard thought of the nurse laughing when he asked about all nine.
“She knew.”
“Yes.”
“She knew they were not sisters.”
“She knew you might reconsider if you learned they had different families.”
Anger rose through the room.
“You manipulated me.”
“Yes.”
“You manipulated the court.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because if each child’s origin became known, the maternity residence would claim legal placement rights. They would separate them immediately.”
Rose asked, “Why keep us together if we weren’t related?”
Evelyn looked toward her.
“Because you had spent months in the same nursery. The older babies reached through cribs toward the younger ones. You slept better when the beds touched. It was not blood, but it was already attachment.”
Iris came down the stairs.
“Where are the records?”
Evelyn looked at the box.
“Most were burned.”
“Most?”
“I kept copies.”
There were nine birth files.
Each contained a mother’s name.
Some had fathers listed.
Some did not.
Several mothers were still alive.
The revelation split the family in ways no prejudice or poverty had managed.
Rose wanted every record opened.
