Cross My Heart, Hope To Die

“Mom always said the locket was vintage, and it stood for whoever owned it before me.” I take a deep breath. “But when I was little I pretended it belonged to a friend of mine.”

Becky nods slowly. She reaches into her back pocket and takes out a hard pack of cigarettes. She slides one between her lips, then fumbles with a match. Her hands are shaking, and the flame wavers for a moment before she gets the cigarette lit. She takes a long drag and exhales.

“When I got pregnant with you,” she says very quietly, “I was really excited. I mean, it wasn’t a planned pregnancy, obviously. I was young, I was constantly in trouble. I didn’t know how I was going to take care of you. But when I felt you kick for the first time, I knew I couldn’t give you up.”

I open my mouth to interrupt her, but she holds up a finger. “Please, Sutton, this is hard for me to talk about. Just wait and let me tell you the whole story. Then you can yell at me some more.”

I bite my lip, but nod. She takes another drag from her cigarette, the smoke wreathing her face. “I started getting ready for you. I scraped together enough money for a stroller and a crib. I read a bunch of books from the library about babies. I didn’t have any money for an ultrasound or any of that, but I took vitamins and ate green vegetables every day and played music for you. You loved salsa music. You’d go crazy in there.” She laughs, and for a moment she almost sounds like a normal mom.

“Then I went into labor. I’ll spare you the details—hell, I don’t remember most of the details. You weren’t positioned right, and they had to operate. They gave me so much pain medication that I didn’t really know what was going on until it was over. Then they brought you to me. You—and your sister. Your twin. Emma.”

For a long moment I can’t move. I can’t speak. I look up and she’s watching me, a tentative, hopeful expression on her face. I shake my head slowly.

“You’re imagining things,” I say. “You must have been high as a kite. I don’t have a twin. That’s impossible.”

“You do have a twin,” she says. “I never told my father. I’ve never told anyone. But I want you to find her, Sutton.” A single tear fights its way loose and rolls down her bony cheek.

I think about my recurring dream, me and my reflection ruling the playground. I think about the feeling I’ve always had of missing somebody, missing somebody who should be right next to me and isn’t. I’d always assumed the feeling was about my birth mom, but now I wonder—have I always known she was out there, deep in my blood? My twin?

And suddenly, I know Becky’s telling the truth.

My mind is swimming, but a barrage of questions comes pouring out of me. “Where is she?” I ask. “Does she know about me? Does she know about our—our grandparents?”

“No. She doesn’t know any of it.” Becky stubs her cigarette out in the dirt, pocketing the filter. “I don’t know where she is anymore. I’ve lost track of her. The last time I knew where she was, it was a foster home in Las Vegas, but Family Services moves her around so often I don’t know where she is now. Her last name’s Paxton, unless she’s changed it.”

“Well, how am I supposed to find her, then?” I ask. Becky just shakes her head.

“You’ll figure it out. You two are meant to find each other, Sutton. You need each other. I should never have separated you in the first place.” She crosses her arms over her chest and heaves a loud sigh. “I have to go now, or everything will get too complicated.”

“What do you mean, go? You just got here. I just met you. And you have to help me find my sister,” I protest. A heavy feeling starts to knot up in my stomach. I’m not sad that she’s leaving, exactly. But I don’t want her to go either.

A strange look comes over Becky’s face. A few minutes earlier it might have looked sinister to me, but now that I’m really looking I can see that my mother just looks shattered. Heartbroken. It’s the look of someone who has already lost everything.

“I’m sick,” she says slowly. “I’m okay right now, but I can feel it coming on. Another episode.” Her body shudders again, as if the very thought is repellent. “I can’t be there for you. I’m so sorry. You’ll never know how sorry. But that’s why I gave you up. I thought you’d be safe with your grandparents, have a shot at a normal life.” She wraps her thin arms around her body. “You know, I tried to come back for you once, when you were a few years old, but Dad wouldn’t give you up. You were his daughter by then. He could finally have a daughter he was proud of. I never gave him that. But you? Sutton, you’re my second chance.”

She smiles, and for just a moment she looks almost pretty again, almost young. The lines in her face relax and in the moonlight she seems smooth and innocent. Pure.

Then she turns, and without another word, she disappears into the night.

32

HELLO, AND GOOD-BYE

Becky’s hand lingered on Emma’s arm, as if it were hard for her to let go. Then she released her and took a step back. “Sutton,” she said softly.

Emma’s muscles were tense, ready to bolt. Even to fight, if it came to that. But something held her back. This was her chance to get answers. This was her chance to find out what had really happened that night between Sutton and Becky. She whirled around to face her mother, planting her legs firmly on the ground and crossing her arms over her chest.

Becky had changed out of her hospital clothes and into a pair of jeans and a secondhand T-shirt that said SOMEBODY IN VIRGINIA LOVES ME. Her face was still too thin, shadows collecting in its pits and hollows, but something about it had softened. Her eyes were clear, and the rictus had left her lips. She looked almost like the young, beautiful mother Emma remembered from thirteen years before, a little older, a little more weathered, but recognizable. Tears and makeup had dried on her face. She looked Emma up and down.