Chapter 2 - The Rules Upstairs)
Emma brought Lily into her room and closed the door.
For nearly a minute, Lily refused to speak.
She sat at the edge of Emma's bed, holding the hem of her pajama shirt in both hands.
Emma did not pressure her.
Finally Lily whispered, "Mom says I make stories."
"What kind of stories?"
"About before."
"Before what?"
Lily looked confused.
"Before I remember."
Emma sat beside her.
"Did somebody tell you about another mother?"
Lily nodded.
"Grandpa used to."
Emma's heart skipped.
"What did he say?"
"He said she sang to me."
"Who?"
Lily looked at her as if the answer should have been obvious.
"My first mommy."
Emma swallowed.
Vanessa had always been presented to Emma as Lily's mother.
No qualification.
No adoption story.
No mention of anyone else.
Emma remembered being ten when Vanessa suddenly appeared at a Christmas gathering holding a baby.
Emma's mother had still been alive then.
Emma remembered asking where the baby had come from.
Her mother had quietly said, "Family things are complicated."
At ten, Emma had accepted that.
At sixteen, it sounded different.
"What was your first mommy's name?"
Lily's eyes moved toward the door.
"I can't say."
"Why?"
"Mom says Grandpa gets sick when people say it."
Emma knew immediately.
Olivia.
Charles's youngest daughter.
Emma remembered photographs from childhood.
Olivia had been wild, funny, and much younger than Sarah and Vanessa.
She wore mismatched earrings.
She played guitar badly.
She used to bring Emma sour candy when Sarah said no.
Then one year Olivia disappeared from family gatherings.
Nobody explained why.
Whenever Emma asked, Sarah said Olivia had moved away.
After Sarah died, Emma stopped asking.
"Was her name Olivia?"
Lily's face changed.
Fear.
Recognition.
Then panic.
"You can't tell."
"I won't."
"Promise?"
"I promise."
Lily leaned closer.
"Grandpa called her Liv."
Emma could hear her own heartbeat.
"What happened to her?"
"Mom says she left me."
"Vanessa says that?"
Lily nodded.
"She says Liv didn't want me."
Emma felt anger rising despite knowing she had almost no facts.
"Do you believe her?"
Lily looked down.
"I don't know."
Emma reached for her hand.
"You don't have to decide tonight."
Lily relaxed slightly.
Then Emma remembered the tapping.
"What did you mean when you said you heard her?"
Lily pointed toward the hallway.
"There's a pipe."
"A pipe?"
"Grandpa said old houses make sounds."
Emma waited.
Lily continued.
"But once I heard something behind the dryer. Grandpa pulled a paper out."
"What paper?"
"He wouldn't show me."
"When?"
"Before Christmas."
"What did Vanessa do?"
Lily's face tightened.
"She yelled."
The bedroom doorknob moved.
Lily gasped.
Emma stood.
Vanessa entered without knocking.
She looked at Lily.
Then at Emma.
"What is she doing in here?"
"She had a nightmare."
"I asked her."
Lily slid off the bed.
Vanessa extended her hand.
"Come."
Lily did not move.
"Now."
Emma stepped between them slightly.
"She can sleep here."
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because I said so."
Emma folded her arms.
"That's not really an explanation."
Vanessa walked closer.
"You've been here one day."
"Yeah."
"You don't know anything about this family."
"I am this family."
Something changed in Vanessa's expression.
It was small.
But Emma caught it.
Vanessa looked almost threatened.
"Go to bed, Emma."
She grabbed Lily's wrist.
Emma noticed how tightly.
"You're hurting her."
Vanessa released Lily.
"Don't tell me how to raise my daughter."
Lily looked at Emma once before Vanessa led her away.
The following morning, Emma asked Charles about Olivia.
She waited until Vanessa went grocery shopping.
Charles was repairing a loose hinge on the garden gate.
The screwdriver stopped in his hand when Emma said the name.
"Why does Lily know Olivia?"
Charles resumed turning the screw.
"Who told you that?"
"That's not an answer."
"Emma."
"Was Olivia Lily's mother?"
The screwdriver slipped.
Charles swore softly.
Emma stared at him.
"She was."
There it was.
No hesitation.
No denial.
Emma felt the world rearranging itself.
"So Vanessa adopted her?"
Charles stood slowly.
"Yes."
"Why did nobody tell me?"
"It wasn't your business."
"She's my cousin."
"She's six."
"And I'm sixteen, not six."
Charles put the screwdriver away.
"Olivia went through a very bad period after Lily was born."
"What kind of bad period?"
"She wasn't capable of caring for a baby."
"And Vanessa was?"
His eyes sharpened.
"Watch yourself."
Emma stepped closer.
"Is Olivia dead?"
Charles looked away.
That was answer enough.
"She's alive."
"I didn't say that."
"You didn't have to."
Charles walked toward the house.
Emma followed.
"Where is she?"
"I don't know."
"Does Vanessa?"
"No."
"Does Lily?"
"No."
"Then why is everyone acting like saying her name will blow up the house?"
Charles stopped at the back steps.
For a moment, he looked exhausted.
"Because some doors are closed for a reason."
Emma thought of Lily standing barefoot in the hallway at two in the morning.
"Maybe somebody closed them from the wrong side."
Charles looked at her sharply.
Before he could answer, Vanessa's car entered the driveway.
His entire posture changed.
"Enough."
Emma stared at him.
He lowered his voice.
"Do not ask Lily about Olivia again."
"Why?"
"Because I'm asking you not to."
"That's not why."
Vanessa stepped out of the car.
Charles looked toward her.
Then back at Emma.
"Leave this alone."
That afternoon Emma found Lily coloring at the kitchen table.
Vanessa was outside bringing in groceries.
Emma sat across from her.
She did not mention Olivia.
Instead she asked, "Are there rules I should know about?"
Lily looked confused.
"What rules?"
"House rules."
Lily began counting on her fingers.
"Don't go in Grandpa's office."
"Okay."
"Don't answer the front door."
"Okay."
"Don't tell teachers about home."
Emma stopped.
"What?"
Lily continued counting.
"Don't touch Mom's phone."
"Lily."
"And don't open the blue bedroom."
"What blue bedroom?"
Lily pointed upstairs.
"There isn't a blue bedroom."
"There was."
Emma waited.
Lily's voice became quiet.
"Mom painted it white."
"When?"
"When I asked why my name was written behind the closet."
Emma stared at her.
"What was written?"
Lily looked toward the patio door.
Vanessa was approaching.
Lily quickly pulled the coloring book closer.
"I can't tell you."
Vanessa entered carrying two bags.
Emma stood.
"I'll help."
Vanessa handed her a bag.
For a few minutes nobody spoke.
Then a small envelope slid from between two boxes of cereal and fell onto the floor.
Vanessa moved faster than Emma had ever seen her move.
She grabbed it.
But not before Emma read the return name.
O. Marsh.
Portland, Oregon.
Vanessa shoved the envelope into her pocket.
Emma looked at her.
Vanessa looked back.
Neither spoke.
That night Emma searched the name Olivia Marsh on her phone.
There were dozens.
But one photograph stopped her.
A woman in Oregon, forty years old, standing beside a small flower shop.
The face was older.
The hair was shorter.
But Emma remembered those eyes.
May you like
Olivia Carter was alive.
And someone using her new name had just sent Vanessa a letter.
