“You are the family lawyers,” said Louise. “I believe you always have been.”

“That is certainly true. It began with my own father and your grandfather.”

“So if I were adopted you would know.”

He did not move a muscle of his face.

“We might, or might not, I should say.”

“I think you know.”

He did not answer.

“My mother told me I was adopted. She told me when I was sixteen.”

“Did she?”

“She didn’t want to tell me, even then. I never had any idea until one day I overheard two of my parents’ friends talking about our family, and one of them said that I was adopted but that I didn’t know. What do you think of that, Mr. Fox?”

“If clients ask us, we generally recommend that they should tell children when they are adopted. Some do not. But even if you had been adopted, I don’t know why you’d come to see me.”

“When I asked my mother about it, and I told her what I’d heard, she wasn’t very pleased. Then she told me that she and my father had adopted me because they loved me, but that my real parents didn’t love me, and didn’t want me. I was quite upset by what she said at the time. It was a new thought for me, you see, that my real parents had rejected me. But now I think my mother said it because she wanted me to love her, and not the parents I never knew.”

“I believe you have had a happy childhood and a good home. Is that correct?”

“Yes, it is.”

“And your parents loved you as they should?”

“Yes, they did.”

“Parents need to be loved too, you know. Even if everything you say is correct, I think you should consider your mother. Perhaps she was afraid you would love her less. You surely do not wish to hurt her.”

“But I’d like to know if she was telling me the truth.”

“Quite often people have children that they can’t look after, for all sorts of reasons. It’s not lack of love, but circumstances that force them to act. Whoever your parents were—assuming you are correct—it’s clear that they went to great lengths to ensure that you had a wonderful home and upbringing, probably one they could never have given you.”

“Shouldn’t one always want to know the truth?”

“Speaking as a family lawyer of thirty years’ experience”—he smiled—“sometimes I wish people knew the truth, and sometimes I wish they didn’t. So if you have come to me for advice, then I advise you to be kind to the parents who gave you a home, and to forget the rest.”

“I didn’t come to you for advice.” She looked at him steadily. “I asked my mother who my real parents were, but she wouldn’t tell me. Then a bit later, I overheard my parents talking. And I heard my father say, ‘Only Foxes know.’ The only Foxes I could think of were your firm, the family lawyers. And it seemed logical that the family lawyers might know, wouldn’t you say?”