Pain inched over his face. Not only pain—guilt. And Sydney could see what this was doing to him—dredging up old confusion, creating new hurt. Making him question his parents’ character, feel culpable for his sister’s absence. “You were only a young boy. It wasn’t your job to have all the answers.”

He nodded. “Just so I understand, you thought my sister was your birth mother but now you’re doubting it?”

Not until a week ago. Not until Wilder Monroe had come crashing into her world. And Maggie had welcomed Sydney into hers.

Wilder answered for her. “Maybe you’re too young to remember, but Diana Muir and your sister were childhood friends—best friends. They both returned to town the weekend of Diana’s accident. It’s a loose connection but—”

“Wait, you’re not saying CarleeAnn had anything to do with that accident, are you?”

Sydney sucked in a breath. That thought had never even entered her mind. But one look at Wilder told her the same wasn’t true of him.

He spoke slowly. “There was another car in that accident. That’s never been in question. But the other vehicle wasn’t found.”

Creighton jerked to his feet, yanked his hat off his head. “It’s one thing to intrude in my life asking questions about a sister I barely remember and her baby that may or may not exist. But then to insinuate . . . no.” He stuffed his cap back into place. “I think I’m done with this conversation.”

Wilder stood. “Creighton, I’m sorry but—”

“No, I’ve had enough.” His focus wrenched to Sydney. “If it turns out . . . if you and I are . . . look, I don’t know what exactly you want from this, from me. But I’m probably not cut out to be a doting uncle even if we are related.”

“That’s not what I—”

He twisted before she could finish her sentence and stalked away.

Wilder released a sigh. “Not exactly how I foresaw that going.”

Sydney’s legs were shaky as she stood. “And how exactly did you think it was going to go? You all but accused his sister of being involved in a hit-and-run or . . . or worse. Causing an accident and then running off with Diana’s baby. What, do you think she kidnapped me . . . the baby?”

“I didn’t say anything like that.” Wilder palmed both cheeks. “But I’ve been doing my homework, Syd. I found a couple of women who were in the same residence hall as CarleeAnn during her short time in college. She was big into the party scene. One of them remembers her getting high.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“Do you know what she died from?”

Of course she did. She’d found her. Visited her.

Opened a door she later wished she’d left closed. “Acute kidney failure. She was only forty-three.”