Page 88 of Head Over Heels

"Half-sister, yes. And she's lived in Delmont her entire life." I pull out a photograph—young Donna at twenty-five. The resemblance to my mother is unmistakable.

Mom's breath catches. Her fingers trace the edge of the photo. "I know her," she whispers. "From the Vanderveen social functions. She was always… kind." She looks up at me sharply. "The housekeeper? Your grandfather's housekeeper is my sister?"

I nod. "And my aunt. She's been taking care of the penthouse all these years. She's Florence's housekeeper, too."

"Of course she is." Mom's laugh is bordering hysteria. "Of course he would arrange to have her watch over you. Even after—" She stops abruptly.

"After what,Mutti?"

She shakes her head. "It doesn't matter now."

"It does," Dad says quietly. "Tell her."

Mom takes a shaky breath. "When you were four, I found a letter from your grandfather. He'd been… monitoring you. Having someone watch you at daycare, at the park. When I confronted him about it, he said he just wanted to know his granddaughter. But it felt…" She shivers. "It felt wrong. That's when I cut ties."

"He never stopped watching," I tell her. "He had cameras in our house. In my apartment. Even Mel's place." I swallow, my throat tight. "He collected copies of every book I've ever loved."

Mom starts to stand, but Dad's hand on hers keeps her seated. "How did we not know?" Her voice breaks.

"Because Donna protected us," I say softly. "She made sure his surveillance never crossed lines, never put us in real danger. And in the end…" I pull out Karl's final letter to Donna. "In the end, she convinced him to leave everything to me. She hoped it might help heal the rift between you."

Mom reads the letter slowly, tears falling onto the paper. When she looks up, her eyes are full of questions. "Why didn't she ever tell me?"

"I think," Dad says gently, "she was trying to protect both of you. From Karl, from the past, from the pain."

"She's been watching over all of us," I add. "Making sure we were okay, even if we didn't know she was family."

Mom's quiet for a long minute. "Does she know that you know?"

"Yes. We talked the other night. She's been waiting—hoping we'd find out eventually. But she wanted it to be our choice—to accept her as family or not."

"Like he never gave her the choice," Mom whispers. She stands up abruptly. "I need… I need to think."

Dad starts to rise, but she waves him to sit down. "Stay with Josie. I just need a minute."

She walks outside, her shoulders rigid with tension.

"Should we go after her?" I ask Dad.

He shakes his head. "Give her time. This is… it's a lot to process."

"I shouldn't have told her about the surveillance stuff," I say. "Not with everything else."

"No,mieloji.She needs to understand why Donna kept her distance, why she chose to protect us in silence." He squeezes my hand. "Your mother is stronger than you think."

Through the window, I watch her pace the sidewalk, one hand pressed to her heart. It feels like forever before she comes back inside.

"I want to meet her," she says finally. "Properly meet her, I mean. As my sister."

"Are you sure?" I ask. "We can take time—"

"No." She shakes her head. "I've lost enough time with her already." She sinks back into her chair. "You know, all those times I saw her at Vanderveen events, I felt drawn to her. Like there was something familiar about her smile, her laugh." She picks up the photograph again. "I can't believe I never saw it before."

"Sometimes we don't see what's right in front of us." Dad squeezes her hand.

"All these years, I thought I was alone." Mom's eyes fill with tears again. "When can I see her?" She asks suddenly. "Would she… Do you think she'd want to meet?"

"She's hoping you'll want to," I tell her. "She wanted it to be your choice."

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