I swallowed.

“Then how did they declare my daughter dead?”

“That question is still being investigated.”

“Who verified her identity?”

“We’re requesting those details.”

I sat down.

The possibility of an administrative mistake was horrifying enough.

But the fact that so many years had passed without anyone identifying the discrepancy was almost impossible to comprehend.

The hospital had opened a formal investigation.

I requested every available record connected to Lucy’s birth and reported death.

For the first time in five years, I was no longer willing to accept explanations simply because someone in authority had given them.

I needed to know what had happened.

And why.

While the investigation continued, the three of us met with a counselor who specialized in adoption and complicated family histories.

We discussed how to eventually explain the situation to Ellie.

How to answer her questions honestly.

How to avoid making her feel responsible for the adults’ fear.