I asked.
Mara’s expression softened.
“The Meridian ran into financial trouble.
The foundation couldn’t keep operating the way it had.
Your mother left Detroit for a while.”
“She never left Detroit.”
“For about eight months.”
I looked between them.
“Where did she go?”
“Cleveland,” Harlan said.
My heart gave a strange little jump.
I had been born in Cleveland.
That I knew.
My birth certificate said so.
Mom always said she had lived there briefly because rent was cheaper.
“She came back when you were a baby,” Mara said.
“She visited us a few times.
Then less often.
Eventually we lost touch.”
“Why?”
Neither answered.
That silence again.
I hated it.
“You both keep doing that.”
“Doing what?”
Mara asked.
“Looking at each other before deciding what I’m allowed to know.”
Harlan’s face tightened.
“You’re right.”
He unlocked the archive door.
“You should decide for yourself.”
