“Just that little card.”

She picked it up. The miniature card affixed to the bow simply read Leah.

Dylan slanted a mocking look at her. “You should probably be really careful with that. You don’t know where it came from, and it might be filled with explosives. Or poison. Explosives and poison are dangerous.”

“Quite right! I encourage you to be cautious of unidentified packages. Also, be wary of underage drinking and speeding and twerking. Never engage in any of that.”

He snorted and returned to his phone and food.

Leah slipped off the bow and raised the lid. Within, a gold necklace glimmered against a backdrop of velvet. A smattering of tiny stars and dots engraved its oval charm.

Wonder moved through her like flour through a sifter. The necklace was delicate. Classy.

She pulled the velvet backing from the bottom of the box. Beneath, she found a single piece of stationery marked with the name of a jewelry store.

The necklace shows the brightest stars in the sky on the night you were born. Some things might have gone wrong on that day, but you weren’t one of them.

-Sebastian

Since she’d received her DNA results, she’d sought to address her birthday mix-up in the way that had always served her best: with logic. Logically she knew she wasn’t the mistake.

Emotionally, that was a little harder to internalize. Across her early childhood years, she’d always felt that she didn’t fit. She’d come to accept and even own that fact. But now evidence proved that she was more than simply someone who didn’t fit. She was, without a doubt, a tremendous oddity. She’d been switched at birth when no one else she’d met or was likely to meet in her lifetime had been switched at birth.

Some things might have gone wrong on that day, but you weren’t one of them.

A heated ball glowed in the vicinity of her heart.

Glancing up, she discovered Dylan watching her smugly. “Is that from Dr. Grant?”

“Yes.”

“The guy you don’t have a crush on?”

“Correct.” She shut herself into the bathroom and tried on the necklace. The chain fell to just the right length.

She dialed Sebastian’s number.

Her call went to voice mail.

He was no doubt busy rescuing a sick child from the jaws of death.

Sebastian was going to have to take Isabella Ackerman off the heart transplant list.

Her parents, Megan and Timothy, waited nearby while he finished his examination. Megan looked like a thinner, harder version of the woman he’d first met. Timothy was as stocky and bearded as before. But his posture had started to stoop. Their expressions pleaded with Sebastian to say that he could make their daughter well.