Chapter 2: The Man Who Said No

Grant did not answer with forever.

"I'm here now," he told Maisie. "And I'm asking to see you again."

She gave him a look that made clear how little either sentence was worth. Then she followed the volunteer down the hallway.

In the parking lot, Grant sat behind the wheel and opened his old email. He searched Anna's name, then the address she had used when they were still speaking. The last message was a birthday greeting he had never answered. He read it twice before Tessa called back.

"Bring identification, proof that you and Anna shared a parent, and any record of her married name," she said. "I can request a family contact review. We won't see everything today."

"Diane Voss said they contacted me."

"She may believe that. The records will tell us what was documented."

"And if the records are wrong?"

"Then we find out how."

At home Grant found Anna's wedding announcement in an old folder, beside documents he had kept for tax reasons and photographs he could never bring himself to frame. His assistant obtained a certified copy of their mother's death certificate. By morning, Tessa had submitted the necessary requests.

Grant's company could move freight across five states by breakfast. The first reply from family services took four business days.

During those days he learned to stop calling the center for updates. Tessa told him that repeated calls would not speed a review, and the receptionist was not responsible for his six-year absence. He drafted an apology to Maisie anyway. After reading it aloud, he tore it up. It spent too many words explaining himself to a child who had asked one simple question.

On Friday, Tessa asked him to come to her office.

A narrow conference table held a small stack of records. She turned one page toward him. It listed two attempts to reach him by phone, three certified letters, and an in-person visit to his former office.

"My former office closed eight years ago," Grant said.

"The phone number remained with your company."

"Who signed for the letters?"

"We don't have the delivery proofs yet."

Grant ran a finger down the page. At the bottom was an entry marked FAMILY DECLINES PLACEMENT. His full name had been typed beneath it.

"I never said this."

"There's a form," Tessa said. "They've agreed to let us review a copy."

The signature looked like his at first glance. It had the high cross on the t and the slash through the W that his accountant teased him about. But the form described a niece he had never known existed.

"Where did they get this?"

"That's one of the questions."

Grant took out his phone, found the signature page of an old company agreement, and placed it beside the form. He couldn't tell whether the marks were identical. Tessa did not claim they were.

"I need you to tell me something uncomfortable," she said. "Did Anna ever mention a child in the letters you returned?"

"I didn't open them."

"Did she tell you over the phone?"

"I stopped taking her calls."

He waited for Tessa to soften that answer for him. She didn't.

"Then she may have tried to reach you," Tessa said. "That matters to Maisie, whatever happened with this form."

Grant thought of Anna's last visit to his office. He had watched her leave while a security guard held the elevator. What he could remember most clearly now was the small yellow glove sticking out of her coat pocket. He had assumed it belonged to a child she was babysitting.

"I should have asked," he said.

Tessa turned the page. "You can tell Maisie that, if she wants to hear it. First, we need to protect her from another adult making her a promise and disappearing."

They drew up a list. Tessa would request the underlying contact documents and ask for the assigned caseworker. Grant would provide a sworn statement disputing the refusal. He would not make accusations against Diane without evidence. He would ask for a supervised visit and show up when it was scheduled.

"I can hire an investigator," Grant said.

"If we need one, we'll discuss what they can lawfully obtain. Start with records you already control. Were you at that former office on the date listed?"

Grant checked his calendar. The visit had supposedly taken place on a Tuesday when he had been in Milwaukee closing a lease. A hotel receipt and his company expense record still existed.

"Good," Tessa said. "Send me copies."

He opened his laptop and did it before leaving her office.

That night, he called Anna's old number out of a habit he had no right to. A stranger answered. Grant apologized and hung up.

On Monday, the center approved one supervised visit for the following afternoon. Tessa forwarded the conditions: no gifts without approval, no discussion of placement promises, no questions intended to make Maisie testify about past caregivers.

Grant printed the message and put it beside his keys.

At six that evening Tessa called again. More of the file had arrived. The document saying he declined responsibility was dated April 18. Anna had died on April 22.

Grant stood at his kitchen counter with the refrigerator door open and no idea what he had been reaching for.

"Why would they ask me to take Maisie while Anna was still alive?" he said.

"There could be an explanation," Tessa replied. "A parent might plan for illness. We need Anna's circumstances and the form's origin before we decide what it means."

"Was she ill?"

"We haven't established that."

Grant closed the refrigerator. "I didn't sign it."

"I believe that's what you're telling me. Now we prove it."

He looked at the date again. The signature was unsettling enough. But somebody had prepared a refusal before Maisie needed a new home, and Grant could not stop wondering who had known she soon would.