No hits, which frustrated her curiosity but did not detract from the fact that she now, very likely, had enough DNA data to justify a court order for Baby Girl Brookside’s records.

Leah wouldn’t presume to call her knowledge of music well rounded. When she was young, her parents had introduced her to the 1980s soundtrack of their high school years, and she’d never found songs she liked better.

However, she was familiar enough with TLC’s hit “Don’t Go Chasing Waterfalls” to know the lyrics suggested that you shouldn’t go chasing waterfalls, but instead stick to the rivers and lakes you were used to.

Which was preposterous.

Case in point: She’d spent a glorious Friday morning chasing a waterfall at Tallulah Gorge State Park. She’d hiked from the rim down to the floor. From her current spot on a shaded rock, the river tumbled past, crystal blue and frothing white. A hundred or so yards away, Hurricane Falls cascaded over ancient rock and filled the air with an underlying drone of nature’s power.

She’d have missed all this if she’d stuck to the rivers and the lakes she was used to.

After unpacking the lunch she’d brought in her backpack, she checked her phone and found a new email from Sebastian’s attorney, Jenna Miles. Leah had called Jenna immediately after deducing that Jonathan Brookside was her father, and Jenna had wasted no time.

Leah opened the email, a smile growing as she read the contents.

Then she spent far too long formulating and proofreading a text message to Sebastian. She was determined that no person would ever, ever, receive an email or text from her riddled with typos.

Jenna just informed me that she was granted a court order. She’ll deliver it to Donna McKelvey at Magnolia Avenue Hospital within the hour and request that Baby Girl Brookside’s documents be made ready for my perusal on Tuesday. You’d asked me to keep you informed about upcoming meetings, and I’m upholding my end of the bargain. Thank you very much for securing Jenna’s services on my behalf.

She could only hope that the detective work she’d done to pinpoint the identity of her father had been sound. If it hadn’t been, the effort to secure a court order pertaining to a baby girl with the surname Brookside would be wasted when Magnolia Avenue Hospital informed them that said records did not exist.

She completed her hike and was backing out of the parking lot when her phone dinged. She pressed the brake as if on the verge of flattening a pedestrian, even though no one was nearby. Bobbled her phone. Then plucked it up and checked her texts.

Sure enough. From Sebastian.

Let me know when to meet you at the hospital on Tuesday. I’ll do my best to be there.

Please don’t feel duty-bound to attend.