“I haven’t thought about it yet, Everly. I just have to take care of her right now,” he replied, suggesting we postpone the conversation. I nodded, too tired to continue the discussion, but I fell asleep with a bad feeling.
***
The next day, Ella and I returned to Scott’s sprawling estate and began our life with her as if something had been decided the night before. I felt powerless, unsure of what to do.
One night, holding Ella in my arms, I searched for answers about Scott’s past and his stepsister, Maya. “Scott, if you and your family have severed ties with your stepsister, why do you insist on raising her daughter?” I asked.
Scott’s reluctance to answer angered me.
“But she’s Ella’s mother, isn’t she? What else do you know about her?” I pressed, growing increasingly angry.
“Everly, this isn’t about Maya anymore. It’s about Ella. Ella has nothing to do with this. And she has nothing to do with anyone but us,” Scott finally said.
I asked about Ella’s father, but he refused to speak.
A few weeks later, curiosity led me to Scott’s office while he was at work. On his desk, I found a photo that contradicted everything he’d told me. It was a picture of Scott, seemingly happy and standing very close to a pregnant woman, presumably Maya.
When Scott came home later that night, his smile faded when he noticed the serious expression on my face. “Everly, what happened?” he asked, concern in his voice.
I held up the photo, my voice calm but cold. “Explain this to me, Scott. This time I want the truth. You said you lost contact with your sister. But this photo says otherwise.”
See continued on the next page
