My heart kicked against my ribs. “What do you mean?”

“You have changed, I can see that. But would the girl I raised truly betray her kin? No, she would do anything for her family. I suppose I won’t denounce you, even if you deserve it. After all, you are my own flesh and blood.”

I stared.

“I named you,” she said. “I pinned your name to your swaddling clothes. I placed you in the orphanage box.”

“You … are my mother?”

“Such a little lamb! So eager for mother’s milk! Me, your mother? Wouldn’t you love it if it were true. Your mother is dead, girl, and you killed her.”

“You must tell me what you mean.”

“Oh, must I? Do I have something you want now? Let’s make a bargain, my lostling. I will tell you the beginning of a story, and you will tell its end.” She withdrew the gold necklace that had been tucked into her dress. From its frail chain dangled a crescent moon carved from a pale jewel that shone even though no light was near, even though the windows had darkened.

My bones felt tightly knit, my arms crossed over my chest as though I were again in the baby box, my body swaddled, the scrap of paper that must have been pinned to me while I slept quivering under my breath. Babies see badly at first, their vision blurry. They can see only what is right in front of them. I remembered that necklace wavering in and out of focus when my mother nursed me.

“Where did you get that?” I demanded.

“From my younger sister, my joy. You look like her, though she was far more beautiful. She never recovered after she gave birth to you. You drained the life from her. Yet she made me promise to take care of you, and so I did.”

Shock settled over me like a heavy cloth. “You abandoned me.”

“Oh, come. It’s not as if I exposed you to the elements to starve. I left you in good care at the orphanage. They fed and clothed you. I kept my promise. And I continued to keep it. I was informed on your progress through the years. When the headmistress said you had a gift for writing and art, I knew I had been right when I named you after a cloud that predicts good fortune. You certainly made mine! I came to the orphanage to reclaim you. I took you in. Now I am giving you everything you could ask for. And what do you do? You spurn me. Me, your aunt, your only living relation, who has always taken care of you.”

My eyes stung. “You let me believe that I was alone. That I had no one.”

“You had me.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”