“I have no idea. That would have defeated the purpose.”
I shook my head and chuckled. “Here’s your water.”
“Thanks.” Charlotte opened the bottle and drank half of it down in one long gulp.
We lingered for a few minutes just outside the door and then I turned to her. “Ready?”
Expelling a long breath, she held on to her stomach. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
After we wrung out our clothes, we were given easy access to Lydia Van der Kamp’s room just by saying we were family. No one bothered to question anything. We weren’t sure if we were going to run into her children, but when we got to the room, she was alone with a nurse.
The woman flashed a friendly smile. “Hello.”
“Hi,” Charlotte said, her gaze fixed on the comatose woman with tubes sticking out of her mouth.
“Are you here to see Miss Lydia?”
“Yes.”
“You must be her daughter. You two look alike. I’m just changing out her bedsheets.”
“Can she hear what we say?” Charlotte asked.
“Well, she’s heavily sedated. It’s not really clear what she can and cannot hear.”
After the nurse left, I lingered in the corner of the room to give Charlotte space. She made her way over to Lydia’s bedside.
The woman looked old beyond her years, likely from the stress of her illness. She was connected to a bunch of tubes, looking like the life had been drained out of her. Despite everything, I could see a trace of resemblance to her daughter.
It took Charlotte a while to conjure up the courage to speak.
“Hi, Lydia . . . I don’t know if you can hear me. My name is Charlotte, and I’m . . . your daughter. I just found out about you, actually. I rushed here as soon as I found out you were sick. I’ve dreamed about meeting you under different circumstances. I’m sorry that this happened to you. You’re too young. It’s not fair. I can see how much we look like each other. Now I know where my icy-blonde hair came from.”
Charlotte looked over at me. Her eyes were glistening, and I took that as my cue to go stand next to her, figuring she needed me for comfort. I held her hand as she continued to speak to Lydia.
“Anyway, I’m here to tell you something. Whatever guilt you might have about leaving me at the church, let it go. Everything turned out the way it was supposed to. I have two wonderful parents whom I adore. So don’t feel like you did a bad thing. You were young, and you made the decision you thought was best. Thank you for choosing a church . . . and not like . . . I don’t know . . . a gas station or some other random place. They took good care of me there. I hope you can hear me. Everyone deserves peace, and I’m hoping to give that to you. Thank you for choosing to have me. I’ll always be grateful to you for that. And I’ll always love you for giving me life.”
Charlotte rested her head gently at the edge of the bed near Lydia’s nearly lifeless body. She took Lydia’s hand and held it.
A few moments later, Charlotte jumped. “Did you see that?”
“What?”
“She just squeezed my hand!”
“I didn’t see it. But if you felt it, that’s amazing.”
“I hope that means she heard me.”
I placed both hands on her shoulders. I hoped so, too. I really felt for Charlotte. I couldn’t imagine meeting my mother for the first time under these circumstances. She was being so strong, and I was really proud of her.
The smoker from outside who’d danced with Charlotte in the rain suddenly appeared in the doorway. Why was he here?
“Can I help you?” I asked.
“Depends. Can you make my mother come back to life?” he said as he entered the room.
Charlotte froze.
“I just figured out who you are, Charlotte. We’ve been talking about you every day since that investigator left. I thought you looked familiar outside, but now I realize it was just because you look like a younger version of Mama. We’ve already met . . . but I’m Jason . . . your brother.”
Tears filled Charlotte’s eyes as she hugged him. “Oh my God. Hi.”
Jason’s hands were trembling a little as he wrapped them around Charlotte’s back. He smelled like a chimney, but on first impression, he seemed like a decent person.
This was pretty damn surreal. He must have looked like his father, because I would’ve never guessed that this dark-haired guy was Charlotte’s brother.
“How long has she been this bad?” she asked him.
“About a month.”
“Is there any hope?”
He frowned. “I’m afraid not. She’s dependent on the machines at this point. We’re in the midst of some tough decisions.”
Charlotte returned to her spot next to Lydia, then looked up at Jason. “I’m so sorry.”