Day Fifteen
I spend some time at the local library on Ancestry.com making notes and putting names into search engines in the hope of finding anything new. I spend a good hour looking up Wulf, again. I find nothing. I try inputting Baby McIver, Baby Murdoch, Baby Hudson even, but nothing comes up. I do a Boolean search. Nothing. The phantasm of my brother is therefore not legible in the archive. He simply isn’t. Eventually, I close down my computer and watch the landscape whir past, watch traffic trundle by the window. When I finally get home, Mum is still in bed, looking pale.
“What’s going on?” I ask.
“Oh, it’s so painful. Your father had to walk me to the bathroom this morning, going so slowly. Every movement, every one, is just terrible.”
“Oh, Mum.”
“Can we not talk about it?”
“Su
