How wonderful that we both work in design. We are connected beyond just our DNA, it seems. My apologies for my delay. I have been traveling for work. Would you like to arrange a time to talk via video chat? My English is much better in conversation than writing. I’ve attached a recent photograph and a picture from when I was a baby, of me with our dad and our grandmother, Giuseppa. She’s 88 and still lives in their village.

—Anna

“Wow,” he said, passing the phone back to me. “How do you feel?”

“Okay,” I replied, and I could almost feel my shoulders release, relaxing for the first time in forever. “Good, actually. Should I open the photos?”

“Of course,” he said eagerly. “I mean, if you want to, then you should. Of course.”

I pressed the first attachment, and a face popped up, smiling dark eyes, and curls like mine, only longer. Hayes leaned in over my shoulder.

“It’s uncanny,” he muttered. “Obviously, you’re related. But still.” I’d always assumed my hair came from my birth father, because everyone else in my family was walking around with fine brown hair. But to really see it, and know it, felt entirely different. The sureness steadied something inside me.

The next picture was grainy and harder to see, but there was a short older woman, with a handkerchief in her hair, gazing sternly at the camera. Standing next to her was a taller man, with a broad smile and thick jet-black hair that grew long on the sides, a slight mullet. In his arms was a tiny baby, with the same inky hair.

“My grandma’s got a real resting bitch face going on,” I joked, despite the racing of my heart.

“She looks like she doesn’t take crap from anyone,” he replied. “Reminds me of someone I know.”

He said this with a playful nudge of his elbow to my ribs, and I felt a surge of self-confidence.

“I wish I could meet her.” The words got caught in my throat. I knew all along that learning more about my newfound family would be intense, but I still wasn’t prepared for the emotion it churned up inside me.

“You have to get to Italy,” he said as if it were a thing I could do tomorrow.

“Someday,” I agreed. Though I’d never offered up any further information, as far as I knew Hayes was still under the impression that my business was booming, an immediate success story. I knew I’d eventually have to come clean about it. But for now, this night was too good to spoil with my money woes.

“At least I can tell my sister I finally had gelato, so she won’t be totally ashamed of me,” I said.

“I’m sure she’ll be very impressed,” he said, a lightness in his voice that matched the smile on his face. “Have you told your mom?”