Adrian stared at Mr. Gorden for a long moment, an unreadable expression on his face, then he lowered his gaze to the fabric in his hand. "Does the reason change anything?" he said quietly.
After a short pause, he added, almost as an after thought. "She deserves to know. The rest doesn't matter."
Mr. Gorden gave a small, knowing nod."That's a good answer," he said.
"I found her when I was coming back from my wife's grave," he continued slowly. "I had nothing waiting for me at home. No family. No children. Just an empty house."
He glanced at the blanket on the table. "Then there she was, wrapped in this."
"I picked her up and went home," he coughed a little and then cleared his throat. "And the house wasn't empty anymore."
Adrian leaned back slightly in his seat, his gaze drifting forward, unfocused.
"I'm telling you this because sometimes the reason we do things isn't something we can explain clearly…" Mr. Gorden said.
