Girl, Missing by Sophie McKenzie Read Free Book Online Page A

upset and was trying to tell me he sympathised, but he didn’t have time to deal with me crying.
    I told him my story. That I’d been adopted through Marchfield eleven years ago, but that my parents wouldn’t tell me anything about my life before that.
    I didn’t mention Martha Lauren Purditt.
    â€˜I really, really need to know where I come from,’ I said. ‘I thought maybe you could tell me something about my real mother.’
    There was a long pause.
    Mr Tarsen’s smile seemed a little strained. ‘I’m sorry, Lauren. I’m afraid I can’t help you.’
    â€˜Why not?’ My gut twisted into a knot. I knew what was coming, but I had to look shocked. Upset. Like I wasn’t expecting it.
    â€˜Until you’re eighteen, you’re not entitled to see your original birth certificate without the approval of your parentor guardian. And you’ve already made it clear your adoptive parents do not approve. I bet they don’t even know you’re here, do they?’
    I blushed. Mr Tarsen shook his head in this really patronising way. ‘I’m afraid I would be breaking Vermont State law if I told you anything.’
    â€˜Oh,’ I said. ‘Oh no.’ My voice sounded phoney to my ears. I wondered how far Jam had got in his search.
    Mr Tarsen stared at me. ‘It isn’t just your age,’ he said. ‘I checked your file before I came down. In your particular case, the mother filed a request for non-disclosure immediately after you were adopted. That means she doesn’t want you to know who she is or where she is. Ever.’
    The knot in my stomach tightened. Was that true? I’d turned up at Marchfield, expecting that I would have to be cagey about what I wanted. After all, it was likely the agency knew at least some part of what had really happened. A seed of doubt now crept into my head. Maybe I’d got the whole thing wrong. Maybe Mum and Dad and the agency were on the level. And I was simply a child whose mother didn’t want her.
    No. That couldn’t be true. I had remembered my mother. I had dreamed of her. She loved me. She hadn’t wanted to lose me.
    Mr Tarsen fidgeted in his chair. ‘I know it’s hard,’ he said.
    â€˜You mean I mightn’t ever find out?’ I said. ‘About my past?’
    â€˜I’m sorry not to have been of more help.’ Mr Tarsen stood up. His patronising smile deepened. ‘But you wouldn’t want me arrested now, would you?’
    I stared at his white polo-neck.
    Maybe for crimes against fashion
.
    He nodded towards the door.
    Do something
.
    â€˜Can’t you tell me anything about my mother?’ I said. I knew I was on dangerous ground. The last thing I wanted was to make Tarsen aware of what I knew about Martha, but I had to give Jam more time to snoop about. ‘You must have met her?’
    Mr Tarsen shook his head. He stood up. Walked to the door. My heart raced. There was no way Jam would have found where my file was by now.
    â€˜Wait,’ I said. ‘What about Sonia Holtwood?’ I’d remembered the name from Mum’s diaries. I knew it was risky to mention her – after all, whoever she was, she was obviously involved in my adoption in some way. But I was desperate. I had to give Jam more time.
    Mr Tarsen stopped with his hand on the door handle. He turned round to face me.
    â€˜Where on earth did you get that name from?’ he said slowly.
    â€˜I saw it written down somewhere,’ I said, unable to think of a plausible cover for Mum’s diaries. ‘Who is she? Someone who worked here? Or my . . . my real mother? Or . . . ?’ I looked down, pressing my hands against my jeans to stop them shaking.
    There was a long pause. I could feel Mr Tarsen’s eyes boring into me. ‘What else did you see, Lauren?’ he said.
    â€˜Nothing.’ My face was burning.
    Crap. Crap, crap, crap
.
    There was a long