“No.” He darted out of sight.

“Coward!” she called after him.

Later that night, Sebastian paused the voice mail he’d begun playing while walking toward the hospital parking lot after work.

He propped a shoulder against the hallway wall, restarted the voicemail, and listened carefully.

“Sebastian, this is Leah Montgomery. We spoke briefly at Misty River High School’s farmers market. Thank you for the bouquet, by the way. I’ve enjoyed it.” A brief hesitation.

Her voice was like moonlight. Clear, tranquil.

“Ben gave me your number,” she continued. “I have a few questions about medical records, and I’m hoping you might be able to offer some insight. Feel free to give me a call back at your convenience. Sincere thanks.”

Hospital staffers drifted past.

He replayed the message again. Then again.

Finally, he continued toward his car. Ben had given Leah his number? Ben hadn’t told him he had.

Once inside his Mercedes C Class, he started the engine but made no move to put the car in gear. He collected his thoughts, then dialed Leah’s number.

She picked up on the second ring. “Hello?”

Longing fisted around his chest. “It’s Sebastian Grant. How are you?”

“I’m doing well. Thanks for returning my call. Can—can you hold on for one moment, please?”

“Sure.”

He heard a door opening and closing, followed by the sound of birds and breeze. “I reached out to you,” she said, “because I could use the advice of someone who’s knowledgeable about hospitals and the policies surrounding medical records.”

“I’m glad you reached out.” It was an understatement.

“What I’m about to say is sensitive,” she told him, “and I’m wondering if you’d consider keeping it confidential. I do realize that’s an outlandish thing to ask, seeing as how I’m a stranger.”

“I don’t consider you to be a stranger, and I’ll keep whatever you tell me confidential.”

“Thank you.”

He waited, trying to predict the situation she’d gotten herself into.

“I have reason to suspect that, immediately after my birth twenty-eight years ago, I went home from the hospital with the wrong set of parents.”

Silence exploded inside Sebastian’s car. He’d in no way predicted that. “You think you were switched at birth?” He kept his voice level. His career, his life, had taught him to absorb surprise while remaining outwardly calm.

She explained her DNA test, retest, and her mother’s insistence that she hadn’t been adopted. “I’d very much like to study the records concerning my birth,” she said, “as well as the records of all the other baby girls who were born the same day.”

“In order to learn the identity of your biological parents?”

“Yes. Also to determine what became of the baby my parents were supposed to have raised and what caused this outcome.”

“Where were you born?”

“Magnolia Avenue Hospital.”