Now waiting with Greg, Jenn looked at the children’s finger paintings, depicting dreams of happy families and hope.
A door opened, and inmates filed in and found their loved ones. Cobb, wearing jeans and a T-shirt, sat at Jenn and Greg’s table.
The guard stood a few feet behind him.
Cobb looked at Jenn as if seeing her for the first time while Jenn tried to understand what she saw sitting across from her: Cobb, the custodian, a kind man, beloved by the kids. A man she considered a friend.
Now he was what? A disturbed, dangerous man...my half brother?
She glanced at Greg.
The vein in his neck was pulsing like he wanted to jump over the table and beat Cobb for what he’d done, but Greg knew better.
“Thank you for coming,” Cobb said. “I’m sorry for what I did to you.”
“Tell me why you did it,” Jenn said. “Why you said what you said.”
Cobb looked at his hands and let out a long breath.
“Your mother had two families. One in Buffalo, one in Syracuse.”
“No.”
“It’s true. I’m her son from her first family, the Telfers. And I had a sister—your sister, well, half sister—Heather. But our mother walked out on us. I chased her on my bike that day while she walked down the street with her suitcase. She told me she’d send for me and Heather, but she never did. She lied. Yes, Heather and I knew that Dad pushed her around, but the guy worked hard and she had a mean streak with him too, and sometimes with us. Still, how could she do what she did? You’re supposed to love your children, not abandon them. Not long after, I found my dad, Clark Telfer, in the garage, hanging by an electrical cord, their wedding picture on the floor under his feet. Heather and I were separated, put into foster homes. Somewhere along the line we were given new last names. When Heather got older, she ran off to the street, like me. I got into trouble searching for her in vain. My anger at my mother kept me going.
“Then I met this juvenile services case worker who hinted she had information on my family—my real family. Once, when the worker left her office, I looked in her files. I couldn’t find information on Heather, but I found my mother’s address. Her name was now Sofia Korvin, and she was married to Leo Korvin. And you were their daughter, Jennifer. Her new family.
“I found you all, living in that house in Buffalo, around Larkin. I had so much rage inside me. I could never forgive her. I wanted to destroy her life like she destroyed ours. I was in my teens then, on my own, living in a men’s shelter when I came to Sofia’s house, offered to shovel snow.
“She invited me in, but being half drunk, she had no clue it was me, her son. I met you, playing with your candle chime, my little sister, Jennifer. I got to know that house. I watched our mother, always half drunk. I hated the way she was acting all nice when I knew she wasn’t. She had to pay for what she did. So one night, I snuck into the house. I put dead batteries in the smoke detector and placed a burning cigarette in the sofa. I went outside and watched the flames in the downstairs windows.
“Then I thought of you and it hit me. This was wrong! What was I thinking? I didn’t want to hurt anybody. I tried rushing into the house to stop the fire, but it was too late. Then I heard sirens. I got scared, ran away with the house still burning. Seeing the firefighters, I figured you would all be saved. From down the block, I watched the fire, smoke billowing, praying no one would know what I did. They’ll be saved! It’ll be okay! The next day, I saw the news that my mother and her husband had died in the fire but that you were rescued. I was so ashamed of what I’d done, I left the shelter and drifted to other cities.”
Tears rolled down Jenn’s face.
“I was never caught, but as I drifted, I was haunted. For part of my life, I was addicted to alcohol, drugs. I lived on the street. But I got myself clean, got jobs, got married a couple times, and divorced, but guilt still gnawed at me and I had anger issues. I felt I wasn’t worthy of love because of what I’d done. Relationships never worked for me. I had no family, no one, like I was invisible, not even here. Then one day, I realized that I did have a family—you and Heather were my family. I couldn’t find Heather, but I found you and Jake. I knew then that you survived that fire for a reason. It gave me hope for a family.
“I wanted to be near you, be a part of your life. It was hard, but I got a custodian job at Jake’s school. I was good at it. It felt like I could watch over you, be a part of your life, be needed, sort of like family again. And I was searching for Heather, doing all I could to find her. I didn’t know when to tell you about my plan for us to be a family, or even if I could. Then I learned from the kids at school that you were going to move to Arizona. I couldn’t let that happen, not after all I did. I had to act fast.
“That’s when I saw the chime in a store window, the exact same kind as the one you had as a kid, and took it as a sign. I sent it to you, to remind you and plant the idea that we needed to be together. I had saved some money, had a small place on a piece of land in Montana, made up a cover story about a fishing buddy there. Then at last, with help from a welfare case worker, I found Heather living in a shelter in Cleveland as Heather Katherine Brady. I approached her, told her I was her brother, Bert, from Syracuse. But she was not well and didn’t believe me. Somebody was watching me, so I gave her some money, told her I’d be back to rescue her.
“I had been watching you closely. I knew everything about you and Greg and decided that if I could get you alone, to explain the truth, you would understand. And that night, I followed Greg to the Mulberry Bar in Depew, to make sure he was out of the way. That’s when I saw him with that woman. I took pictures. It confirmed to me that I was doing the right thing, that he didn’t deserve you. I decided to send pictures to police so they would know what kind of man he really is, kind of like our mother.”
Cobb stared hard at Greg, who stared back.
“Then I stopped you that same night in Ripplewood.” Cobb turned to Jenn. “To rescue you and keep you safe, to set things up for us to go to Montana after I got Jake, too. But first I went back to Cleveland, to explain to Heather that it was time to be together, to be with her family. But she didn’t understand. She was too far gone because our mom had destroyed her. So Heather fled, running to the freeway.”
Tears rolled down Cobb’s cheeks.
“I knew at the funeral it was Heather and not you because I was keeping you safe.”
Jenn thrust her hands to her face.
“They tell me I will likely never be released from prison for the things I’ve done. I was only trying to save you and Jake,” Cobb said. “I just wanted you to know the truth about your mother—our mother.”
Cobb turned to the guard, got up, and left.
Jenn didn’t remember walking from the visitors’ room, or leaving the prison, only being in the truck with Greg and crying so hard she thought she would come apart. All Greg could do was hold her as she gasped, choking on her words.