Darcy grasped the envelope in one hand, carefully analyzing the handwriting on the front. Her address was printed neatly in dark blue ink, but there was no return address. The handwriting looked familiar, but she couldn’t place it. Along the borders of the envelope ran vines of ivy, leaves reaching out to the edges, an adornment she’d only seen on stationary in little boutiques she used to venture with her mom and Gram Gram as a child. She ran her thumb across the stamp in the top right corner, a gardenia. Gram Gram had grown the most beautiful gardenia bushes out in front of her old house on Kenmore street. Those bushes smelled like heaven in the summertime. Darcy had once bought an air freshener that smelled of gardenias. Her husband had come home and asked why the house smelled like an old lady. She never told him how much the comment had hurt her. Darcy couldn’t help but to wish the letter had come from Gram Gram, but there was no way this letter had come from her. Gram Gram was seven years in the grave now. Maybe it had come from her mother. She considered this the next best option, but was puzzled as to why her mom would mail her a letter. She flipped the envelope over, grabbed the letter opener off the kitchen counter, then wedged it into the slight hollow of paper, and slid it across the top. Inside was a piece of matching stationary paper and a photo. Darcy removed the photo and brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a gasp. She sat staring at it for a long time before she realized she was holding her breath. She let it out in a whoosh, set the photo down, and unfolded the letter: Darcy, I am so sorry to have to deliver the news to you like this, but there was no other way. I had to make sure I’d be gone before you found out the truth. I am not your real mother. Due to the circumstances surrounding my adoption of you, it was necessary for me to keep this a secret, but now, the secret is out, and I must be the one to tell you first. This is not something I’m proud of, but I loved you so so much, you have to believe that. I didn’t want to lose you, and it was never my intent to hurt you. I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me and Gram Gram for what we’ve done. I love you so much, Mom Darcy sat still for a moment. She lifted the photo once more and studied it in stunned silence. There was a knock at the door, and the sudden sound startled her, causing her to drop the photo onto the floor. She began to reach down to retrieve it, but another knock followed the first, this one more frantic and impatient. Leaving the photo on the floor she hurried to open the door. Before her stood two police officers, one male, one female. The female officer flashed her an inviting smile, but the man stood on the doorstep, expressionless. “Good morning, Darcy, is it?” said the female officer. Darcy nodded almost imperceptibly. “Hello, Darcy. I’m officer James, and this is my partner, officer Hannover.” She gestured to the man standing beside her, but he did not make any attempt to smile. “How can I help you?” Darcy asked, feeling a large lump of cotton lodge in her throat as she tried to swallow. “May we come in? There’s some sensitive information we need to share with you.” Darcy nodded once more and stepped aside so the officers could enter, then she shut the door and offered them a seat in the living room. “Darcy, we have some very difficult news to share with you. We have evidence that you are most likely a missing child, and your parents have been looking for you for about 25 years. We believe your real name is Angela Beaman, and you were born to a family in Texas. You were abducted from a Walmart at the age of two, and your parents have been looking for you ever since.” The three of them sat in silence for what seemed like an eternity before the officer spoke again. “We’d like you to come down to the station and run some tests to verify if you are this missing girl, if you’re willing, of course.” Darcy looked at her, speechless. Every sound in the room was amplified, the silence was so loud. She could hear the whoosh of the air as she exhaled slowly through her nose. She blinked, then began to nod, “Yes, yes that will be fine. Let me grab my purse.” Darcy moved as if through a fog into the kitchen and picked up the photo she’d left on the floor. It was a double framed image; on the left was a young toddler in pigtails with a brilliant smile and bright blue eyes. On the right, a computer aided sketch of a much older woman with those same bright blue eyes. Across the top of the photo were the words, “Have You Seen Me?” Darcy placed the photo next to the letter written on beautiful ivy stationary, grabbed her purse, and headed to the police station.