I know exactly who Grace is. I won’t trade details online, but we can meet in person. Just us.
Meeting a stranger alone was risky, but if it led me to Grace, then I had to take that risk.
I chose a busy café and told a friend where I’d be. At fifty-two, I couldn’t ignore my first real lead in years.
a message popped up on my phone.
I arrived early with the folder I’d carried through years of searching. Inside was a photograph of Grace and me sitting on our old porch steps.
A woman sat down across from me.
I looked up and my whole body went cold, then hot.
Gray hair. Lines around her eyes, same as mine.
But those curls, that crooked smile, those eyes. I’d have known her in a crowd of a thousand.
A woman sat down across from me.