Ellie was the five-year-old girl my sister and her husband had adopted just two weeks earlier, after eight heartbreaking years of trying to become parents.
“Is she hurt?” I demanded.
“No. She’s safe.”
“Then what’s happened?”
My sister pushed the envelope into my hands.
“The adoption agency uncovered something about her past. Everything they told us about where she came from might be wrong.”
I opened the papers.
There was a hospital name I recognized immediately.