“I love you, Cinderella,” I whisper.
“I love you, too. No matter what.”
Chapter Three
When I got home from Six’s house last night, I slept through the night for the first time in a month. I went to bed relieved that we were okay.
But I woke up this morning feeling not okay.
Sure, our relationship finally seems stable. But Six is hurting. A lot. And I keep telling myself there’s nothing I can do, but when I woke up feeling unsettled, I realized it’s because I haven’t even been trying. Sure, it was a closed adoption. Sure, I’ll probably keep getting doors slammed in my face. But what kind of boyfriend would I be not to at least try to make Six’s world better?
This is why I’ve been on the phone for two hours. I called seven adoption agencies and was told the same thing from each of them. They aren’t allowed to release any information. I keep trying, though, because what if I get the one person who is a little bit unethical in my favor?
I was on the eighth phone call when Hannah walked in. I told her all about my conversation with Six and how I feel like I should be doing more to try to find out information about who might have our son, or if someone can just tell us he’s okay.
I told Chunk, too, because she’s Hannah’s shadow every time Hannah’s home from college.
I debated not updating them, because I really don’t want them to talk about it at all ever, but it’s also nice to have people who know the truth. And besides, three brains are better than one, even if they’re all Wesley brains.
Hannah has called three lawyers in Italy so far. Two immediately told her no, there’s nothing they can do to help. She’s on the phone with the third one now.
“Adoption,” she says, googling something. “Um. Italian. Adozione?” She waits for a moment, and then looks down at the phone with a defeated expression. “He hung up on me.”
Every phone call leaves me a little more disappointed than the last.
“Someone has to be able to help,” Hannah says. She falls back onto my bed, just as frustrated as I am.
Chunk is seated in my desk chair, spinning in a circle. “What if you’re kicking a hornet’s nest?” she says. “I mean, there was a reason they wanted a closed adoption. They don’t want you guys involved.”
“Yeah, because they were scared she’d come back to take her baby,” I say. “But she won’t. She just wants to know he’s okay.”
“I just think you need to leave it be,” Chunk says.
I look at Hannah, hoping she doesn’t feel the same way.
“I’m usually on Chunk’s side, but I’m actually on your side this time,” Hannah says to me. “Keep pushing. Maybe ask Six more questions. Someone has to know something. Italy isn’t that big, is it?”
“Sixty million people live in Italy,” I say. “Even if we contacted forty people a day, it would take us over four thousand years to make it through everyone in Italy.”
Hannah laughs. “You actually did the math?”
I nod pathetically.
“Well, shit,” she mutters. “I don’t know. You just have to keep trying. Maybe the host family knows who it was.”
I shake my head. “Six said they weren’t really involved. There was an American who worked at the school who helped Six with the adoption. I asked Six if there was a way to get in touch with her, but Six has already tried to get information from her on more than one occasion. The woman refuses to share anything based on legal grounds.”
Hannah looks hopeful. “But this woman knows? Someone knows where he might be?”
I shrug. “I don’t know what she knows, exactly. I just know she helped Six.”
“Call her,” Hannah says.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because Six said she’s tried that already. More than once. The woman is a brick wall.”
“But you’re annoying. It might work for you.”
Should I be offended by that? “What does me being annoying have to do with it?”
Hannah picks my phone up and puts it back in my hand. “You have to be persistent to be annoying. Be persistent with her.”
I look at my phone. “I don’t even know who to call. I don’t know what school it was.”
Hannah asks for the name of the town Six did her foreign exchange in, and then writes down three numbers as she searches the internet. I can’t remember the name of the lady Six said she knew, but I do remember she said she was American. I call the first two schools and ask if they have an American teacher on the faculty and both say no.
I dial the third number with little hope left. A woman answers in Italian.
“Do you speak English?” I ask her.
“Yes. How can I help you?”
“I’m looking for a teacher. An American teacher. I can’t remember her name but I need to speak to her.”
“We have one American teacher on staff. Ava Roberts.”
“Ava!” I yell. That’s it! That’s the name Six mentioned last night. “Yes,” I say, trying to calm myself. I’m standing now and I don’t even remember standing up. I clear my throat. “May I please speak to Ava Roberts?”
“One moment.” I’m placed on hold and my heart is pounding. I use my t-shirt to wipe sweat from my forehead.
“What’s happening?” Chunk asks, appearing a little more interested.
“I’m on hold. But I think this is the right school.”
Hannah brings her hands to her mouth right when someone picks up on the other end. “Ava Roberts, how can I help you?”
My voice is shaking when I start to speak. “Hi. Hello.” I clear my throat again. “My name is Daniel Wesley.”
“Ah, a fellow American,” she says. She sounds friendly. “Are you wanting to sign up as an exchange student?”
“No. No, I’m in college. I’m calling about something else. It might be weird, I don’t know.”
There’s a pause. “Okay,” she says, drawing the word out. I hear the sound of a door close, as if she’s giving this conversation privacy. “What can I help you with?”
“Um. Do you remember a student by the name of Six Jacobs? Or maybe she went by Seven Jacobs?”
The lack of reply on her end gives me my answer. She definitely knows who I’m talking about. It doesn’t mean I’ll get any answers, but it feels good to know I’m on the right track.
“Daniel, you said?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Daniel, I hope you understand that I’m not allowed to discuss students in any capacity. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
She knows. She knows why I’m calling. I can hear the fear in her voice.
“Don’t hang up,” I beg. “Please. I just. Okay, so I’m going to go out on a limb here and assume you’re the teacher who helped Six find an adoption agency. She mentioned you knew a couple who was looking to adopt, which means you might still know the couple. Which means you’re the only living person who might can tell us where our baby is.”
More heart-pounding silence. “Why are you calling me? I’m not allowed to discuss this.”