“Jesse knew who the family was that took my son,” Judith said quietly. Now she was looking into the distance with an expression on her face that suggested she was lost in a memory. “He told me once … when was it?… Maybe 1980, when he moved back here? Yes.” She nodded. “That makes sense. I would have been in my early sixties. He told me that his sister Nellie knew the family and where they’d moved to long ago. My son—the baby I gave away—would have been about forty years old then. Jesse said he could tell me where he was, if I wanted to know.” Judith looked from me to Oliver. “I told him I didn’t want to know,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’d closed that chapter of my life long ago.”

I frowned at her. “But even if your son was my grandfather, which just … I doubt very much, is it just a crazy coincidence that I ended up here? That Jesse picked me to—”

“Not a coincidence,” Oliver said.

“He’s right.” Judith nodded toward Oliver. “I imagine Jesse kept an eye on my son. I’m guessing that he followed that family line just in case I one day said to him, tell me about my child. And then you came along, with an interest in restoration and—”

“No, I didn’t know anything about restoration,” I said. “I was an art major at UNC, and not a very good one, either.”

She studied my face for a moment. Then she chuckled. “Well, there you have it,” she said. “I can imagine how delighted Jesse was to stumble across someone in the Christopher line who was not only an art major but who was also having a rough time of it. No wonder you became one of his projects.”

I held up my hands. “Wait,” I said. “I’m still not buying that I’m one of that line of Christophers.”

“Call your parents,” Oliver said. “Find out where your grandfather was born. Then we’ll know if there’s anything to this, one way or another.”

I felt my face heat up as I thought of making that call. “I can’t call them,” I said. “I’m not speaking to them. They don’t even know I’m out of—” I cut myself off. I didn’t want to get into all of that in front of Judith and Gloria. I felt suddenly self-conscious about the monitor on my ankle.

“Call them,” Oliver said again. The tone of his voice left no room for argument. I knew he was right. It was the only way to find an answer to this puzzle.

I looked at him for a long moment. “My phone is in the kitchen,” I said. “I’ll call from there.” It was going to be hard enough talking to my parents without an audience. “I’ll be back.” I turned toward the hallway.