Emma considered this. She was, Natalie thought, so much like Adam in that moment: the careful frown, the checking of the work.
"Is that worse?" Emma said. "Than having a baby and giving it away?"
Natalie looked at her.
"Yes," she said. "I think it is. For him. Having a baby when you're twenty and giving her to people who can take care of her—that's something that happened to me. That's something I did when I was scared and young and alone. Nobody gets to be angry at me for that. Not even me, really, though I try. But lying to your dad for fourteen years, when I was a grown woman, when I had every chance to tell him—that's something I did to him. Over and over. Every day I didn't tell him, I did it again."
Emma was quiet.
"Does she know about me?" she said at last. "Claire?"