A History (Of Lies)

In the lobby of the hospital, the officer began asking questions.

“What’s your mother’s name, girls?”

Dallas spoke. Dallas always spoke. “Leigh Ann Johnson,” she said firmly.

“Where is your mother?”

Dallas glanced at me, and I could feel her thoughts.

What do we tell him?

I shrugged discreetly.

Our mother…Dad never mentioned her. It’s been that way for as long as we can remember, and Dallas and I aren’t really sure why.

What we do know, however, is that Dallas and I were born out of wedlock. They never married. Maybe Mom’s dead. Most likely she simply disappeared, around the time we were one, I think.

“Our parents are divorced,” Dallas said.

I stared. “No – “

Dallas clapped a hand over my mouth.

The officer looked baffled.

“Our parents’ separation troubles Hannah,” Dallas insisted. “She likes to pretend that it didn’t happen. She’s in denial. That’s the truth.”

I had enough sense to play along with Dallas, but I had no idea what she was talking about. Divorce?

What is going on?

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