Sean Riley couldn’t be my twin, and he was not my older brother. My few cousins were distant, both in relationship and miles. The only other possibility was obvious. Sean Riley was my father, and the woman I’d always believed to be my sister, was, in fact, my mother.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

This wasn’t the first time I’d blinked and the world around me had changed. The night that John Quayle wrestled me into the backseat of his car was the first. Even though Teo couldn’t save me this time, I found myself driving toward Confidence K-9s.

Somebody buzzed me in, and I found him in the office, in conversation with two of his trainers, whose names I couldn’t remember.

Teo took one look at my expression and stood. “We’re done here?” The men took the hint and nodded to me as they left the room.

“I’m about ready for lunch. We can go to my place,” he said.

I hadn’t spoken and still didn’t. I followed him to his car, a small SUV that was good for carrying dogs and easier for him to climb in and out of.

For a cop and a tough guy, he was surprisingly intuitive, so he didn’t press me. “How’s Biz doing?” he asked instead.

“Probably sleeping on my bed right now.”

“How are you?”

“I’m a mess.”

“I kind of thought so.” He pulled into his driveway and parked. “Food, then talk. Right?”

“Right.”

In the kitchen he pulled cold cuts and cheese from his refrigerator and we made sandwiches. We took our plates out to his patio and dusted off a round table in the shade. Teo took the seat beside me so we were both facing the woods, although I didn’t think the scenery had motivated him. He had sensed correctly that it might be easier for me not to look at him.

“So, is this about Wendy?” he asked.

I picked up my sandwich and took a bite while I considered how best to begin. By the time I swallowed, I knew I just had to tell the story. So I did. My trip to the school, my talk with Claire Durant, the yearbook. All while I stared into the woods.

“So the original owner of the yearbook defaced your sister’s photo?”

“That’s a mystery I haven’t solved and probably never will.”

“If she was the one who had the yard sale, maybe she’s still around.”

“Or maybe she was moving and getting rid of everything. I guess I can look for her if I need to.”

I could see he was watching me, and I turned a little. “I found a photo of Wendy with a boy. They were in a play together, L’il Abner. She was Daisy Mae.”

He waited, but his eyes telegraphed concern. I considered putting my arms around him and just letting him hold me. Because that’s why I’d come. Not to tell him about this new piece of the Wendy puzzle.

Instead I took a breath. “I couldn’t figure out why he looked so familiar. But finally I got it. It was like looking into a mirror, Teo. My dark hair, the shape of my face, my nose, even my dimples. And suddenly my whole life fell into place. This boy—Sean Riley’s his name—is my father, and you know what that means? That means Wendy is my mother. Not my sister. My mother. Do you remember the story of my birth? How Wendy was doing a gap year in Mexico, and Mom went to join her? Then she discovered she was unexpectedly pregnant and had to stay in Mexico because she was in danger of miscarrying? I was born prematurely. Or so I’ve been told.”