Chapter 6 - DULCIE LEARNS SHE HAS A SISTER
Stellan did not tell Dulcie immediately.
Not because he wanted secrecy.
Because she deserved support.
Her therapist came.
Grace helped explain facts.
Stellan sat on the floor of Dulcie’s room.
She sat on the bed.
“Is this about the other girl?”
“Yes.”
Dulcie hugged a pillow.
“Do you know who she is?”
“Yes.”
“Is she your daughter?”
Stellan swallowed.
“Yes.”
Dulcie’s eyes widened.
Then:
“Did you cheat on Mommy?”
Stellan nearly fell over.
“No.”
The therapist hid a smile.
“No.”
“Then?”
Stellan took a breath.
“You were born with a sister.”
Silence.
“A twin sister.”
Dulcie stared.
No reaction at first.
Then:
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I would know.”
His heart broke.
“You should have.”
“Mommy would tell me.”
Stellan looked down.
“She wanted to.”
“Why didn’t she?”
“She was scared somebody might hurt both of you.”
Dulcie’s face changed.
“Did Mommy give her away?”
“No.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Did you know?”
“No.”
She began crying.
Angry crying.
“Everybody says no!”
Stellan let her.
She threw the pillow.
“Where is she?”
“Rhode Island.”
“Does she know me?”
“Yes.”
That hurt her.
“How?”
“Your mom told her.”
“So she knew me and I didn’t know her?”
“Yes.”
Dulcie wiped her face hard.
“That’s not fair.”
“No.”
“Does she look like me?”
“A little.”
“Does she like purple?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does she hate me?”
“No reason to.”
“Imogen said she might.”
There.
Stellan leaned closer.
“Imogen lied to both of you.”
Dulcie frowned.
“She talked to her?”
“Possibly.”
The private investigator had.
Imogen herself had sent Maeve one letter through an intermediary.
Stellan had not seen it yet.
Dulcie whispered:
“Will she live here?”
“I don’t know.”
“Will she take half my room?”
“No.”
“Half my money?”
Stellan felt rage at the adults who made an eight-year-old ask that.
“Your money is not the important thing.”
“She gets half.”
“If something belongs equally to both of you, yes.”
Dulcie cried again.
Not greed.
Fear of losing identity.
The therapist asked:
“What would change if Maeve gets something too?”
Dulcie looked confused.
“I’d have less.”
“Would you have less Daddy?”
Dulcie looked at Stellan.
He answered:
“No.”
“Less memory of Mom?”
“No.”
“Less bedroom?”
“No.”
“Less birthday cake?”
Stellan said:
“That depends on Maeve’s dessert habits.”
Dulcie almost smiled.
Then whispered:
“I want to see her.”
Stellan’s throat tightened.
“She may not be ready.”
“Why?”
“She’s scared too.”
Dulcie considered.
“Can I write?”
That was perfect.
Not a forced meeting.
Not adults arranging emotion.
A letter.
Dulcie wrote:
Hi Maeve.
Daddy says you’re my twin.
That sounds fake but everybody says it’s true.
Do you like purple?
I don’t know if you hate me.
I don’t hate you.
I’m mad nobody told me.
If you’re mad too, okay.
— Dulcie
Stellan read it.
Then looked away.
The letter went through Maeve’s guardian, Claire Hale.
Two days later, reply.
Hi Dulcie.
Purple is okay. Green is better.
I don’t hate you.
I thought you knew about me and didn’t want me.
I’m mad too.
I have the same necklace as you.
— Maeve
Dulcie immediately touched her throat.
Her necklace had been recovered from Imogen’s safe through counsel.
She wore it now.
Two circles.
Stellan stared.
Elena had made two matching pendants.
One for each daughter.
Dulcie smiled for the first time since learning the truth.
“She has one.”
“Yes.”
Then she asked:
“Can we send a picture?”
Slow.
Careful.
May you like
Children leading pace.
That was how the sisters began.
