of apples on the backseat.
I got out and slammed the passenger door like a teenager. I’d been ranting ever since she refused to stop at the house with the balcony. She’d been ignoring me, as she would a teenager, even as I had stormed along beside her through the grocery store.
Now I stood next to the car and yelled again. “You promised you’d give me the information!”
“I will,” she called over her shoulder. “In a minute.”
I stomped up the three steps to the cottage. I didn’t need James’s help to figure out that Marta was heavily into avoidance. I could come up with that on my own.
Once I reached my alcove, I dialed his number and then let it ring until it went into voice mail. I hit “end.” It was mid afternoon back home. He probably had a class. I sent him a text and asked him to give me a call when he had a chance.
A minute later he replied: With study group. Will call later.
I spread out on my tiny bed.
If Marta were related to me, did I really want to know anything more about this family? What if everyone was as coldhearted as she?
I closed my eyes for a couple of minutes and was close to dozing off when I heard Ella’s bedroom door open and footsteps in the hall. When she said “Oops” my eyes flew open. Ella was darting away from the alcove with Zed behind her.
“Come back!” I ordered, stumbling off the bed to the floor.
“I’ll be right there.” I could hear Ella’s steps in the hall.
I looked to my right. Her doorway was about ready to swallow her with Zed next in line.
“Ella!”
She stopped. Maybe my voice reminded her of her mother’s.
“Come back here.”
Zed turned first. As Ella swiveled around, I saw the carved box in her hands.
“We just wanted to get a better look.” Her voice was as meek as her expression.
“That’s fine, but there’s no reason to be so secretive about it.” I reached for the box and opened it. The locks of hair and letter were still inside.
Zed stood with his arms crossed over his checked shirt, his head downcast.
“How about you?” I asked. “Have you seen the house before?”
He shook his head.
“I remember where I saw a picture of that house,” Ella said. “It’s in the family Bible.”
“Here?” I glanced toward Marta’s room. Is that where she would keep it? Had a clue been that close to me all this time?
Ella shook her head. “I was snooping. It was a couple of years ago at Aunt Klara’s, and I was looking for a puzzle to do with Mammi. The Bible was behind a stack of games.”
I titled my head, imagining Amish children sitting around playing games and doing puzzles with their grandparents, touched by the sweet image.
“I started to thumb through it—the pages were really thin—and found a loose piece of paper with a picture of the house.” Her eyes grew wide with the memory.
“Was there anything else in the Bible? A list of births and deaths?”
Ella wrinkled her nose. “I don’t know, but that was what I was wondering the other day when I told you I would help you find your birth family. The day I found the drawing of the house, Aunt Klara came into the room, so I had to put away the Bible and pick out a puzzle, pronto.”
I sat back down on the bed. “Tell me about Ada.”
Ella’s face reddened as she glanced at Zed. He shrugged.
“Your mom said she’s your cousin. Klara’s daughter,” I said.
Ella nodded.
“And she looks like me.”
“Mom told you that?” Ella sounded dumbfounded.
I frowned. “No. Will Gundy did.”
“Oh,” Ella said.
“Is it true?”
“Kind of. Maybe. A little, anyway.” She shrugged. “I’d need to see the two of you together…” Her voice trailed off.
I leaned forward. “Please take me to your aunt’s house.”
Now it was Zed’s turn to look unnerved.
Ella made a face and then said slowly, “Well, I don’t think I should. But maybe I could go…” Her brows tightened. “Maybe you could drop me off, and I could say I’m doing a family history project for school and need to ask Mammi some questions.” She turned toward her brother. “Remember those projects? In the fourth grade? But Mom wouldn’t give me any information so I made it all up, and you just copied mine when it was your turn?”
He nodded solemnly. I remembered those sorts of projects. They were the kind that made an adopted kid feel like