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dates of birth also conflicted, the recent fax indicating that he was a year younger. I was puzzled but assumed the confusion originated with the adoption agency.
    “One last thing,” the nurse said. “I am not sure if this is important, but I thought I should mention it anyway. Here it says his mother’s name is Abla, father unknown. In the other, it says parents unknown. It’s as if this information is for a completely different child.”
    I asked the nurse to make me a copy of the information. I could hardly wait for Zack to come home. Before he could set his briefcase down, I was on his case. “Zack, do you realize the information you faxed to the school does not match the papers we originally gave them?”
    He stopped in his tracks. He stalled for a minute and then turned to look at me.“Let me see the papers,” he said, putting his briefcase down.
    I pointed out the discrepancy.
    “Oh my, Mugure, what do you think this means?” he asked, looking up at me, equally shocked.
    “You should know. Where did you get that information?”
    “From the adoption agency, of course. There has to be an explanation.”
    “I will go there,” I told him. “Where’s their exact location, anyway?”
    “It’s close to my office. I will go there first thing in the morning, so please don’t worry.”
    “Could this affect Kobi?” I asked.
    Zack rubbed his temples, like he did when he was frustrated. “We did everything by the book, so I don’t think we have anything to worry about. It’s probably a bureaucratic error,” he said at last.
    •  •  •
    The following afternoon Zack called from his office and astonished me with the news that the agency had closed down.
    “What?” I screamed in disbelief.
    “No one was picking up the phone, so I drove there. Locked up. No forwarding address. This is crazy.”
    “But they faxed you the information just the other day?” I said.
    “It may mean they have just closed down,” said Zack, sounding flustered.
    “There has to be a way. We have to find them. We have to get the information,” I insisted.
    “Mugure, calm down. I am a lawyer, remember—I’ll see what I can do.”
    “See? See what you can do? Just do it. It’s Kobi’s life,” I yelled, surprising myself. I had never raised my voice to him before. The tone did not escape him. He tried to soothe me.
    “There’s nothing to worry about. We are under no obligation to give any background information as a condition of Kobi’s place in the school. We need not concern ourselves with his past. Only with the future.”
    He was right. The school had not asked for the information. And unknowingly, he’d hit me at a different level. He had echoed my attitude about the past, or rather, my philosophy. I had never concerned myself with my past; I had decided not to let the past hold me back. If I ignored it long enough, it would leave me alone to pursue my future. I suppose that’s why I’d never pressed my mother to tell me more about my father or probed into the real what, when, why, and how of my past. Why hadn’t he bothered to visit me when I was born, at least? How was it that he hadn’t been curious enough to find out about his own kid?
    “I need the exact address of Kasla,” I demanded in a softer voice.
    Zack must have sensed something in my silence, hesitancy, and a change of mood. He dictated it over the phone and then added, “Please don’t do anything foolish. I will get to the bottom of this. And please keep this within the family,” he emphasized as he hung up the phone.
    No, no, honey, I said to myself. A flag has been raised. Something is not adding up. Almost as a defiant reaction to Zack’s admonition, I called Melinda and told her everything. She was concerned. Always ready for adventure, she suggested we drive down to Manhattan to visit the adoption agency’s old address and confirm the closure for ourselves. We agreed on the next day.
    I picked up Melinda at the corner of Park