Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
“Judy?” Megan says, holding her pen above an open file. “You’re still up? I didn’t think I’d see you again today.”
“Yes, I couldn’t sleep.”
“I can understand why.” She closes the folder in front of her, stands and steps around the desk to come to me, wraps an arm around my shoulders.
“This place must bring up a lot of memories.” She glances back at the desk.
“I was just finishing a budget review. I’m happy to take a little break. Why don’t we sit?”
She walks to the conference table and lowers herself into a chair, then rises again, moving to a small glass-front fridge against the wall.
“Oh, yes. Let’s have one of these.” She reaches inside a small glass dome over a silver tray.
Inside are four perfect cupcakes decorated in yellow buttercream and fine sprinkles.
I smile despite myself. “Those are not—”
“They are.” Megan places the tray between us. “Mrs. Potter’s lemon cupcakes. Remember how we used to sneak extras after lights out?”
She lets her fingers rest on the tray for a moment. “We still have the recipe. The kitchen makes them for special occasions. Tonight, one of our staff retired.”
“That’s lovely, Megan. And such a beautiful way to remember Mrs. Potter.”
“They don’t taste quite the same as when she made them.” She sits again. “I was going to bring one to you in the morning.” She nudges the tray toward me. “Come on. Have one.”
“Thank you. That’s sweet of you.” I settle into a chair, pick one up, peel off the paper, and take a bite. Right away, the sharp lemon cuts through the sweetness and for a moment I’m thirteen again.
Megan takes a bite of her own, then sets it down. “I’m really glad you’re here, Judy,” she says, chewing. “I never thought you’d come back.”
I plaster on a smile. “It’s great to be back. You all did wonderful things with the place.” My eyes flick to my watch and I groan inwardly. Another minute wasted.
Every cell in my body screams to push past Megan and start searching for my daughter, but I can’t. Not when she controls access to the children’s wing.
So I sit here, nodding at her stories while my stomach is clenched tight with nerves.
“We couldn’t let Mrs. Potter’s work fade.” Her gaze flickers around the room. “This is her legacy.”
“It is. But it hasn’t always been smooth, has it?” I ask carefully. “I heard there were some setbacks.”
“Scandals, you mean?” Megan corrects. “Yes. One in particular six months ago. I’m sure you’ve read about it.”
“I did. The girl who drowned.”
Megan nods. “Her name was Sadie Sutton. She was here for six days before…” Her voice trails off. “When she couldn’t be located, my first thought was that she’d run.”
My fingers freeze around the cupcake. “You thought she ran away? Why?”
She lowers her eyes briefly. “We’ve had a few runaways over the years,” she admits. “Very few. But it happens. Some children are sent here when families are desperate. They resist the structure, test boundaries. It’s not unusual for them to threaten to leave.”
I immediately remember the text messages Scarlett had sent me when she was in the camp with Sadie, telling me that she was doing well and responding beautifully. Did she lie so I wouldn’t be disappointed?
“Sadie struggled at times,” Megan continues. “Her counselor noted she pushed back against rules. When she didn’t get her way, she’d say she would leave.”
“You said running was your first thought. So now you think she drowned?”
“Well, that’s what the police said. There was a major search and her shoes were found near the water.
We were all crushed. Mandy called an emergency board meeting.
No one slept that week.” She pauses. “It hit us hard. Especially because she wasn’t the first kid to meet a tragic end after leaving our care. ”
“What do you mean?” I don’t look at her, just stare at the polished wood of the table as tears fill my eyes.
“We had a girl who ran away two years ago,” she says quietly. “Some troubling evidence suggested that she may have been… killed.”
She’s clearly talking about Eliza Bennett.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Megan. That must have been so hard.”
Megan stands up and grabs a box of tissues.
She pulls one out and blows her nose. “It’s still too painful to talk about those poor girls.
You try to save them. And sometimes… you can’t.
” She inhales. “How about we talk about something else more positive?” Her voice is softer now.
“Or we can just sit.” She reaches across the table and gently places her hand over mine.
Only then do I notice my fingers are trembling. And to my horror, a tear drips from my eye and plops onto the table. I wipe it away quickly, but it’s too late. Before I can contain it, my pain spills out and I’m sobbing.
“Oh my God, Judy.” Megan pulls out another tissue and hands it to me. “Are you okay? What’s going on?” she asks after I wipe my eyes and look up at her. Concern is written all over her face. “I’m sorry if I dampened your mood. It’s just been a lot, the last couple of months.”
“I’m Sadie’s mom.” The words fall between us like broken glass.
Megan dips her head to the side. “What?”
“Sadie. She’s my daughter.”
I can literally feel the air being sucked from the room.
Megan’s hand flies to her mouth. “Judy… I didn’t know. Why didn’t you say anything? Sutton…” She narrows her eyes. “But you are—”
“I kept my maiden name when I got married to remember my adoptive mother by.”
“Sadie was really your daughter?” Megan looks dumbfounded, her face softening.
“I… had no idea. I never made the connection.” Her eyes search mine, as if she’s looking for some trace of Sadie’s features on my face.
“I’m so, so sorry for your loss.” She grabs my hands and squeezes them tight, tears springing to her eyes.
She leans forward slightly. “Is that why you’re here? ”
Now that she knows, I might as well tell her the rest and ask for her help. “I don’t think Sadie is dead,” I say. “I received a photo of her alive, a recent photo. I don’t know who sent it.”
“That’s cruel,” she says. “Whoever sent that to you is exploiting your grief.”
“That’s what my husband thinks too. But in the photo, Sadie was wearing a bracelet, one I was told permanent residents wear here.”
Her eyes widen. “You think Sadie is here with us? Oh, Judy. I’m so sorry but she isn’t.
Your little girl died that night and I’m truly sorry.
I am.” Megan shakes her head, pressing a finger to her chin.
“Permanent placements are rare. And heavily regulated and reserved for disadvantaged kids when we can’t find them a new home and they have nowhere else to go.
The bracelet… I don’t even remember when we last issued those. ”
My fingers fly to my throat, pressing against the sudden tightness there. I open my mouth but no sound comes. Megan’s face blurs, then sharpens. Her lips are still moving but her words fade beneath the high-pitched ringing in my ears.
Something inside me collapses. The desperate part of me wants to call her a liar, while another part crumbles with the possibility she’s telling the truth. A hot ball forms in my belly, then burns through my chest, up my neck, and behind my eyes. A tear makes its way down my cheek.
I press my lips together, trapping both the sobs and accusations behind my teeth. “I don’t want to believe she’s gone. I came because I thought…” I chew a corner of my lip. “I thought maybe she chose to stay. That she didn’t want to come home.”
“She could not have stayed without parental consent.” She blows out a breath.
“And there I was thinking you came here because you wanted to test out the adult retreat programs. As much as I’m grateful you came,” she continues softly, “I don’t know if being back inside these walls is helping you heal.
Judy, you don’t have to leave tonight,” she adds quickly.
“But maybe we can talk in the morning. I could refer you to someone in town who can properly support you.”
I try to smile but my face won’t cooperate. In my body, everything feels raw, and the wound that’s been rotting inside me since the moment they told me Sadie was gone splits open again.
Megan stands up and walks to the door. I take that as an invitation to leave.
“I’m glad you told me,” she says. “I wish we were seeing each other again under different circumstances. I’ll come and see you in the morning, okay? To say goodbye.”
“I’m sorry, Megan,” I say as I move past her and into the hallway. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have come.”
If Sadie is not here, where is she?
Even if she isn’t in the camp, perhaps there are some answers to be found. Because I know this much… I didn’t come all this way for nothing.