But my mother was unconscious, and the lock was in my hand, and the fear, for the first time in my life, was not stronger than the anger.

I had spent thirty-five years not looking.

I was done.

I put my hand on the door.

Chapter 5 — Brigitte

I had the door half open when a car came fast up the gravel drive, and my sister, Brigitte, got out already shouting.