“For following her. I was the one that ran out into the woods.”
She shook her head and then spoke in Korean. “You should not have gone out like that, tearing outside like a crazy person. You nearly gave Halmoni a heart attack. We’re lucky everyone is okay. But are you in trouble? No, my child, you are not. You were good to lead us to her.”
“You really think that?”
“Yes. For how else would we have been able to save her?”
I stopped walking. “So you want her to live with us too?”
She sighed and flattened her lips together. “I want what is best for our family.”
The girl was discharged from the hospital at the end of the week. Dad and Mom agreed to take her in as emergency guardians. I stayed at the cabin with Mom and Moni to clean and pack while Dad went to go pick up the girl.
I stood at the end of the dirt path leading to the cabin. The same dark, stained cedar framed the abundant windows, giving it the appearance of a fish tank. Black metal roofing topped the first and second levels; gray and white stones lined the stairs leading up to the front door. I could see Moni in the kitchen, wiping down the inside of the oven. Mom was on the second floor, taking off the bedding in my room for the wash.
But it wasn’t the same cabin anymore.
Her presence had morphed the very bones of its structure. Bending and twisting it into something that we all recognized but knew was incongruent with what we had lived in before.
It was immeasurable. But we felt it unmistakably.
Two local papers printed stories about the girl. The Cook County News Herald made it their front-page story, quoting Sheriff Vandenberg and even Dad. He read the story once at breakfast, folded it, and put it to the side. Mom later tossed it in the trash.
The Duluth News Tribune printed a picture of our cabin with a smaller article on the third page. She was still known as “girl found in woods.” No name.
Eventually, she would have one.
And everyone would know it.
CHAPTER 6
WREN
Minneapolis, 1980s
She couldn’t ignore them any longer. The tight, pressurized pains that invaded her midsection. It was like a vacuum had been inserted under her skin, suctioning and stretching all her muscles until the off button was finally pressed and she was able to breathe again.
It was nothing close to what the books had mentioned. These were sporadic. She couldn’t time them even if she tried.
“Liars,” she muttered and then clenched her teeth as another wave hit her.
A week after she found out she was pregnant, she had sat on the floor of a bookstore as she sucked on saltines to help with the nausea. There was no one else in the back corner. Just a half row of pregnancy and parenting books and the crinkle of the transparent packaging she dipped her hand into after every few pages.
Was this what she was already? A “back-corner mother”?
She had wanted to take one of the books with her. Instead, she placed a few on hold. Pretending to be able to buy something was better than not buying it at all.
“Your name?” the bookstore employee had asked politely, his pen poised over the white scrap of paper.
She had looked down at her belly that was still flat, then up at him.
“Wren.”
The name had slid with rawness off her tongue.
She had left the store before he could even finish writing it.
The pain was now making it hard to remain in a sitting position. She opened and closed her hands until her belly loosened. She had promised to call when this happened. But she wanted a little more time. She wanted to keep her safe inside for a little bit longer.
Her.
When the tech announced it was a girl, she had smiled. She had rubbed her belly, sang to her tenderly, and done all the things she was sure she would never do. Maternal, loving things. Things she never had growing up.
She slid her hands onto the base of the roundness that overtook her petite frame and lifted, as if that would alleviate the pressure. For the first time, she moaned out loud. Sweat dampened dark strands against the sides of her face and down her neck.
The nearest phone was at the Somali deli a block away. She would have to make it down there before it got worse.
Not yet. Not just yet please. Hang in there with me a little longer, baby girl.
She never imagined it would be this hard.
She never imagined she would be all alone.
She wanted more time. A sliver of time. That was all she was asking for.
A sigh of relief breezed out of her as the contractions suddenly ceased. She tilted her head back and tucked her knees in.
Something tore inside her. There was no pain. A gush of warm liquid seeped down her legs. The trickling taunted her, a faint chime that time was up.
