“You offered money so you could transfer responsibility away from yourselves.”
“Amelia—”
“You signed a contract to get rid of Gracie.”
I pointed toward Noah.
“He signed it to protect her.”
Dad snapped:
“That does not make him innocent.”
“No.”
I looked at Noah.
“He should have told me.”
Noah nodded.
“But his silence gave Gracie a home she chose.”
Then I faced my parents.
“Your silence was designed to take that choice away.”
People had begun slowing down in the hallway.
Nurses.
Visitors.
Two women from the maternity waiting room.
Mom noticed them.
“Lower your voice.”
“No.”
“This is a private family matter.”
“The time for privacy was three years ago when you decided your daughter was a burden.”
Mom looked down.
Dad moved closer.
“We were thinking about her future.”
“You were thinking about your convenience.”
“We would never have abandoned her.”
“You already selected the facility.”
“It offered professional care.”
