My mother and aunts had made them extraordinary but elegant hats. Betsy’s, Kayla’s, and Tilly’s were light pink/light red/light yellow wrapped with faux roses “so they can keep them forever and remember this day when they found their Rose.” They added ribbons, netting, and glitter spray. Johnny’s was a black mobster type of hat with a white band around the top and a pink rose.

“Sexy,” Betsy told him. We laughed.

We had dinner and we had dessert, a Baked Alaska, which my aunt Iris set on fire and said, “I think I would have been a talented arsonist.” The flames glowed off the crystals in our chandelier.

“I am sorry,” my mother said to Betsy and Johnny, wiping her tears. She explained to them why she didn’t tell me I was adopted as a child and then as an adult. Betsy and Johnny were very gracious. They did not argue with her, and they did not question her decision.

“We understand, Poppy,” Johnny said. “We want to thank you, and you, Iris and Camellia, for raising and taking such loving care of Ro—” He stopped. “Of Evie. You were obviously wonderful to her. Look how she’s turned out.” He turned to smile at me, and that boxer’s face teared up again. Betsy reached out a hand to him and he took it, as she blinked away more tears.

My aunts, even tough Iris, teared up, too.

“Evie is smart,” my mother said, “and has dealt with her premonitions as best she can, helping others, saving others. Why, a few days ago she actually climbed up on the roof of a house and fixed several shingles because she saw the owner, an older man, trying to fix it himself and breaking a hip on the way down.”

I had done that. It wasn’t fun, because I hate heights as much as I hate running.

“She has a soul that shines like the sun,” Aunt Camellia said, hands to heart.

“She’s had a heckuva time,” Aunt Iris said, nodding at Betsy. “Maybe you can help her get her head on straight with the premonition problem. Form a plan. Analyze what’s been done in the past to help in the future.”

Betsy and Johnny had hired an attorney and gone to court to get me back. My parents had hired an attorney to prevent it. My parents had not told me I was adopted, neither had my aunts, thereby preventing Johnny and Betsy, innocent kids when I was taken from them, from being in my life. But, I thought, as I watched Johnny, Betsy, and Tilly, they were not there to be angry. They were not there to attack my mother or aunts.

They were there for love.

They were there for me.

They wanted peace.