That is it. I've seen her name before – first on the letter that I'd seen on his desk, and again after I'd found that picture of him in the article about his parents. It was so much to take in, and at the time, I was so laser-focused on Harlan and only Harlan, that I didn't remember the name of his parents.
I'm not sure if Harlan is completely in the mood to open up to me, but I am grateful that he's started nonetheless. I can't help but smile, losing the fight against the corners of my lips that lift upward as my heart fills with warmth.
I've always imagined Harlan as a lone wolf because, well, he is. It is hard to imagine that he has a family out there somewhere. Now there is a name to the woman who'd raised him.
And then lost him.
"I remember now. I read about her," I admit. "And yo
