Delphine’s husband, Marcus, stepped farther inside and stared at the pajamas in my hands. For several seconds, nobody spoke. Then Delphine sat down at the kitchen table and covered her face. She finally admitted the washing machine had never been broken. The laundry trips to my house had simply given her an excuse to disappear for several hours without Marcus asking too many questions.
The pajamas belonged to a four-year-old girl named Sophie. Before Delphine met Marcus, she had given birth at nineteen and placed her daughter with relatives because she had no money, no stable home, and believed she was doing the responsible thing. Only our mother had known. Months earlier, Sophie’s guardian had contacted Delphine after becoming seriously ill and asked whether she would consider rebuilding contact.
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