"I want to think that way, but to be honest, I feel anger more than anything else. Then I feel guilty because I'm not thinking it's a fantastic miracle that she's alive. It would make sense if she'd had amnesia for twenty years and had no idea that she'd left her family behind. But since she had my number in her phone, I don't think that's what happened." I ran a hand through my hair. "It's complicated."

"It is," he agreed. "You'll figure it out." He grabbed the bat and stood up. "I need to take off. I'll be downstairs if you run into any problems."

"Okay." As I got up and walked him to the door, I felt oddly disappointed that he was leaving. I would have liked to hear more about my mother. But he was gone before I could formulate any more questions. I wondered about his sudden and hasty exit. He'd seemed to be happy chatting about his relationship with my mother and then he'd just decided it was time to go.

I let out a sigh. I had enough to worry about without trying to figure out the darkly handsome man who lived downstairs. I locked the door behind him and returned to the family room. Moving to the bookshelves, I trailed my finger along the titles of dozens of novels. I wanted something more personal. I wanted photo albums. I wanted a diary or a journal. I wanted to know who my mother was and what she'd been doing for the last twenty years. But there was nothing on these shelves.

I walked over to the desk and opened her laptop computer. I put in the same password as her phone, but it didn't open. That would have been too easy, I thought with a sigh.

As I considered my next move, my phone rang. It was my stepmother, Vicky. "Hello?" I said, wondering why Vicky was calling me. We rarely talked unless it was about some family function.

"Have you spoken to your father, Brynn?"

"No. I left him a message, but he hasn't called back."

"That's not good. Ross hasn't returned any of my calls or texts since Tuesday. I'm very concerned. Dani and Steve haven't heard from him, either. I know your father is busy with work, but he usually responds to a text, especially from you or Dani."

"Not always right away," I reminded her. "I've waited days for him to return a text or a call. When he's working, he gets wrapped up in what he's doing and forgets about the rest of his life."

Vicky let out a troubled, angry sigh. "I don't appreciate being forgotten."

I knew that. Vicky had always needed a lot of attention, and for the most part my dad seemed to give her what she needed. "I'm sure he'll call you tomorrow."