Helen Saye came to town with her daughter in early autumn.
She had agreed to speak with Mara, but she wanted the meeting to happen at a quiet place rather than Richard’s former office.
We gathered at a small botanical garden on a weekday when few visitors were present.
Helen walked slowly with a cane and stopped beside a bench under a flowering dogwood.
Mara approached her with the caution of someone who had learned that reunion could be another form of disappointment.
Helen looked into her face and began crying before either woman spoke.
She remembered Mara as a child who loved astronomy books and was forever asking questions about the moon.
Mara laughed softly because she still kept a star map above her desk.
They talked for nearly an hour about Evelyn, avoiding the scandal at first.
Helen described the way Evelyn taught children to read by allowing them to choose subjects they cared about.
She told Mara that her mother used to carry a small notebook filled with words the students had asked her to explain.
Mara listened with an expression I had never seen on her before.
For years she had possessed only the facts of her mother’s death and the accusations Richard made about her temperament.
Helen gave her stories that were neither legal arguments nor defenses.
She remembered Evelyn burning a batch of cookies and laughing so hard that she had to sit on the kitchen floor.
She remembered Evelyn taking Mara into the yard to watch a meteor shower despite the winter cold.
Mara wiped her eyes and asked why Helen had stopped writing.
Helen admitted that Richard sent back three letters and then warned her to respect Mara’s new life.
She had believed her continued contact might make things harder for the girl.
Mara told her that she had wanted someone to keep trying.
Helen accepted the criticism without arguing.
Then she opened her handbag and removed a folded photograph of Evelyn standing beside the rear entrance of Alder House.
Two children were visible in the background, carrying schoolbooks toward a waiting van.
The photograph had a handwritten date on the back.
It was taken on the morning before the first child disappeared.
Helen said she had kept it because Evelyn seemed especially happy that day.
Mara asked whether Naomi could make a copy.
Helen agreed, but only after asking the other families whether they wanted the children identified publicly.
