Chapter 23 - Lizzy Reads the File
At seventeen, Lizzy asked to see records.
Not all.
Therapist helped decide.
She wanted know:
“Was I really starving?”
I answered:
“You were undernourished and dehydrated. Doctors did not say you were at immediate starvation death.”
“Did Grandma steal everything?”
“No. Some money paid real things. About ninety-seven thousand was eventually classified unsupported or personal.”
“Did Grandpa know?”
“Some. Not all forgery.”
“Did Dad abandon me?”
“No. He went to treatment and was lied to. He also had responsibility to check, but he was not told truth and had limited contact.”
“Did you want me?”
“Yes.”
“Before call?”
That stopped me.
“Yes.”
“Then why didn’t you know?”
I cried.
Because that was question I asked myself for years.
“I believed adults who had raised me.”
She nodded.
“That’s fair.”
I shook head.
“Not entirely.”
“No,” she said. “But fair.”
Seventeen-year-old Lizzy had grown into person who could hold more than one truth.
She read my forged signature.
“That looks like you.”
“I know.”
“Creepy.”
“Yes.”
Then she saw mother’s text:
YOU RUINED EVERYTHING.
Lizzy smiled without humor.
“You did.”
“What?”
“You ruined it.”
I stared.
She continued.
May you like
“The bad thing. You ruined bad thing.”
That changed sentence forever.
