The officer handed me a letter.
Anna, I never stopped looking for you. I was ten when they separated us. You were just a baby. They told me you were too young to remember. I prayed that was true. I didn’t want you to feel the hole I felt.
I moved into the house across from you, hoping it would be easier. But I was too scared you’d reject me. I kept this apartment as a haven, a place to keep everything safe. I planned to show you one day, but Jasper had to lead you instead.
“There’s more,” the officer said softly.
Medical files. Hospice intake forms dated the day he asked me to watch Jasper.
“He isn’t missing,” I realized.
“No, ma’am,” the officer said. “He checked himself into end-of-life care.”
I looked at the photos again. They weren’t of a stalker—they were of a brother watching his sister from afar.
Neighbors murmured, “He always said he wanted to find her!”
“I am,” I said. “And he did.”
I gathered the documents and letter. I had to reach the facility.
The care home was quiet. At the desk, I placed the papers down. “Please, I need to see him. I’m his sister.”
The receptionist’s eyes softened. “He mentioned you this morning. Just before he slipped into a deep sleep.”
A nurse led me to his room.
For illustrative purposes only
I took his hand. “Daniel, it’s Anna. I’m here.”
His fingers twitched. His eyes opened weakly. “Annie?”
“I didn’t know. They never told me.”
He smiled faintly. “I wanted to tell you, but I was so scared. I figured I’d let Jasper tell you. I know it was cowardly… I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. All that matters is we found each other.”
The nurse entered. “We need a signature for next-of-kin authorization.”
I looked at Daniel. He nodded. I signed.
For the first time in my life, I wasn’t just an only child. I was someone’s protector. I was family.
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