“Your granddaughter,” she confirmed. “Rachel had me when she was seventeen. She couldn’t, or didn’t want to, raise me. I was adopted.”
My mind was reeling. A granddaughter. I had a granddaughter. All these years, there was a part of my family I didn’t even know existed.
“I found out about you two years ago,” Lily continued. “My adoptive parents were always honest with me. I started investigating and found you. Then I met Dr. Nora through the scholarship program. A few months ago, I told her who I was. It was her idea to help me create this opportunity to meet you.”
“Have you spoken to Rachel?” I asked, dreading the answer.
“I tried,” Lily admitted, her eyes filling with tears. “I traveled to Portugal. She didn’t want to meet me. She said that part of her life was closed.”
The cruelty of it was a fresh blow. “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, holding her hand.
“It’s okay,” she said, wiping a tear. “I have wonderful parents. I wasn’t looking for a mother. But I thought… maybe you would like to know that you have a granddaughter. That part of your legacy continues in a way you didn’t expect.”