‘Because she was trying to contact a woman who works in the bar in this club. And you’re the only female working in this bar. She came to Boston looking for you.’

Chapter Seven

I’m awake all night. No chance of sleep. All kind of crazy ideas going through my head. Is it possible Turner is right, that Katie Collins is looking for me? But if so, why hasn’t she found me? I’m not that difficult to locate. And where is she now?

And now, totally paranoid and sleepless, when the last thing I need is more grief, I hear Mom’s voice, whispering: I took you, Becca. What if she is telling the truth? If Mom did take me I wouldn’t have a birth certificate, or photos of her holding me after giving birth at the hospital. But what if?

Standing by the window in one of Mom’s old t-shirts, I watch the world pass by below. People going about their normal daily grind, heading to offices, shops, cafes. Well, I won’t be heading to the office today. The idea of facing Stephen Black is just too much.

And here it comes again, the guilt, flushing through my body, torturing my conscience. Why did I sleep with someone else’s husband? What if his wife finds out? Oh my God, his poor wife. Bit late now! Mom always told me to find a gentleman. ‘Someone who will treat you right, Becca, that’s all you need, someone who makes you feel you are the queen of their world. Someone to love you.’ Someone to love me, if only she knew. She would not be happy.

I wonder, is she happy? Is she anything? Happy? Sad? Scared? Scared was the worst part of the diagnosis. For me, anyway. The tears that flowed when she remembered she had forgotten. The panic, the terror in her eyes. Gasping like she was drowning, knowing there was only one direction this diagnosis was going. It seems like all we did was cry in those early days.