The last page contained handwritten corrections but no signature.
That mattered because the document might have been a draft she never sent.
Naomi warned the families against treating it as proof that the trustees received an official complaint.
Mara said she was tired of every important discovery arriving with another qualification.
Lillian told her that the qualification was part of respecting her mother’s work.
If Evelyn had been cautious enough to distinguish questions from accusations, the people preserving her words owed her the same care.
Mara read the draft twice and then asked for a copy to keep with her mother’s lessons.
She said the document sounded like Evelyn’s voice, even though she had not heard that voice in decades.
The clerk also found a small note mentioning a scheduled meeting with an outside social worker.
No meeting minutes survived.
The social worker had moved to Oregon and was now retired.
Her name was Janice Heller, and she agreed to speak with Naomi by telephone.
Janice remembered visiting Alder House and raising concerns about the incomplete transfer forms.
She had expected the board to suspend relocations until the discrepancies were resolved.
Instead, she was told the school would close before another inspection could be arranged.
Janice said she later learned of the disappearances through a local newspaper.
She had filed a short memorandum with her supervisor but never received a response.
Her account did not identify a single person who caused the harm.
It established that warnings existed before the situation became a public scandal.
I sat with Mara while she read the memorandum.
She said she had imagined the disaster came without warning because the adults always described it that way.
Now she understood that several people had recognized danger and failed to stop it.
The recognition made her angrier than the original lie.
CHAPTER 32: The Birthday Book
Caroline found a small package among the personal effects Richard had left behind when he moved to the hotel.
The package was wrapped in faded brown paper and bore Mara’s name in careful handwriting.
Inside lay a slim book about constellations, with a dedication from Evelyn for Mara’s sixteenth birthday.
The first page contained a pressed blue flower between sheets of thin paper.
Caroline held the book for nearly an hour before deciding what to do with it.
She could have placed it in a box for her attorney to inventory.
Instead, she called Mara and asked whether she wanted it delivered through an intermediary.
