The puppy had cheered Luke up considerably; however, it made it even more difficult to send Emma and him back to school, because they would have to see a lot less of Bella during the day. They didn't seem too bothered by this, though, as it would hopefully make coming home even more enjoyable than ever.
For me, it was a relief to see them finally heading back to school, because it gave me time to continue my secret research. Research into Emma's past.
The idea had come to me whilst in bed one night, a few days after the whole hair-dye event. Right there and then, I had decided it would be a good idea to do some digging into Emma's past. Because how could I truly understand her behaviour if I didn't know the history of her life?
I had abandoned the search a few weeks later, when things seemed to smooth over and my search seemed to be in vain, but now I had decided it was time to continue.
With my last search, I had found very little.
All I really knew about Emma was that she had lived with her mother, until she had been hospitalised due to ill health, at which point Emma had been placed into foster care. Amanda had simply told me she'd been neglected, but I needed to know more.
Simon didn't know about my research, as I knew he'd strongly disapprove, so it was my little secret. Whenever I saw him busy with something or heading out somewhere, I'd sneak upstairs to continue my findings.
My main aim was to track down Emma's mum. I was pretty sure she was still around, because surely the social workers would have had to have alerted Emma if she'd passed away, so I wanted to meet her. I didn't care what the social workers wanted (of course they would strongly disapprove). Emma was my child, my responsibility, so I would find her mother regardless of what anybody else thought about the matter.
A little while ago, Amanda had unintentionally slipped me some information she probably shouldn't have in our last chat. She hadn't thought it important, because she had no idea about my research project, but it would prove very useful for me. She'd told me the name of Emma's auntie – Ellen Gillard – which was my point of research for today.
I used Facebook to perform my searches, as most middle-aged women seemed to be using it these days. Typing in her name brought me many women up – some young, some old, and some in-between. Eliminating the obviously wrong ones, I worked my way down the list of Ellens, searching through every post and every photograph they had ever uploaded. It was a lengthy process.
Voila! I spotted a picture on the fifth Ellen's timeline. In the background, there was a woman, Ellen presumably, and in the foreground, a little girl of about four of five years was standing, clutching a teddy bear with her tiny fingers. Her hair was white-blonde, her eyes a deep blue. She was Emma.
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