The confession came two weeks later.
It was late, past midnight. I couldn't sleep, so I was in the kitchen, making tea. The house was quiet.
Then I heard something. A door opening. Footsteps.
I looked up. Henry stood in the doorway.
"Couldn't sleep either," he said.
"Something like that."
He sat down at the table across from me. His hair was messy. His eyes were tired.
"I need to tell you something," he said.
I waited.
"When I ran that background check on you, I found out things. Things I didn't tell anyone. Not even Eleanor."
"What things?"
"About your mother. Your biological mother." He looked at me. "She didn't just die of an overdose. She was murdered."
The word hung in the air.
"What?"
"It was never solved. The case went cold. But I found the file. She was involved with
