That he blocked you.

That he made it impossible.” “I kept the same phone number for fifteen years,” I said to him, evenly.

“The same email address.

The same house, the one she is looking at photographs of right now.

She could have reached any of us, any day, at any hour.

She simply preferred a version of the story in which I was the villain and she was the victim, because it was easier to tell her new family than the truth.” I looked back at Laura.

“You built this lie yourself,” I said, quietly.