I could barely contain my excitement. This was exactly what we’d been hoping for. ‘Do you recognise any of those names?’

‘Not one.’

A little online research informed us that persons listed as close family could be parents or siblings.

‘Fuck,’ Dan breathed, and I noticed his hand was shaking. ‘Do you think this Stacy Wilson is my sister? What should I do now?’

I put my hand on his. ‘What do you want to do? I guess you could start by messaging her. Tell her who you are, who you think your parents are, and that you’re trying to work out how you guys are related.’

‘But what if she doesn’t reply?’

I smiled encouragingly. ‘You won’t know unless you try.’

‘True, but what if she’s a racist, or a drug addict or a bigot or something.’

‘Or, maybe she’s a serial killer and in jail!’ I gave him a look, trying to remember that while this was an exciting mystery for me, it was actually his life. No wonder he felt anxious and emotional.

‘Seriously though,’ I said, ‘you don’t have to rush into this. You can sit on the information as long as you want, but this woman is obviously open to being contacted or she wouldn’t have made her profile public. Same goes for the other matches.’

‘You’re a very wise woman, you know that?’ Dan pressed his lips against mine, then leant back into the sofa with a sigh.

‘This wise woman has another idea too. Why don’t we search for Stacy online and see what we can find out about her and some of your “first cousin” matches?’

Dan thought this a sensible suggestion, so I went to get my laptop and we made a deep dive into the cyber life of Stacy Wilson. She was older than him by eight years and lived in San Francisco with her wife. She worked in IT and posted a lot of photos of two clearly spoiled dachshunds.

‘She looks normal, doesn’t she?’ Dan said, his voice a little higher than usual. ‘People who love dogs are generally trustworthy.’

I smiled at his logic. ‘Looks can be deceiving but yes, she looks very nice. Do you want a drink?’

‘Yeah, that’d be good.’

‘Let me fix us up something to eat too,’ I said, realising it was getting on towards dinner time.

‘Want some help?’

I shook my head. ‘I’m just reheating the pasta I made yesterday, but can you take Charlie out for a quick pee?’

His head shot up from where he’d been slumbering on the rug at our feet.

‘Sure thing,’ Dan said. ‘Come on, boy.’