“Nice enough, I suppose. Good, hardworking people who go to church every Sunday and read their Bible daily.”

Ruth’s mind shifted between Carlotta’s, Talley’s, and Mama’s faces. Each was so different, and yet strands of familiarity threaded between them. Was it the eyes, noses, or tilt of their heads?

Carlotta walked down the porch steps. “If you want to know more about your mother’s family, ask her.”

“She never wants to talk about before.” An old frustration twisted inside Ruth. “She always changes the subject.”

“Then you should respect that. Not everyone wants to revisit the past.”

“But I want to know more.” That persistent hunger in her growled and grumbled. “Did you know I’m adopted?” She whispered the unspoken truth no one ever discussed.

Carlotta’s lowering gaze hid something. Surprise? A realization? “Are you?”

“Mama said she found me in one of the bungalows, wrapped in a blanket. She said I was wailing my head off.”

Her eyes softened. “You were a talkative baby? Imagine that.”

Hints of brittle humor relieved some of the nervous energy buzzing in Ruth’s ears. “Mama never found any traces of the woman who left me in that room.”

“I can’t imagine anyone sneaking in and out of this resort without your mother knowing.”

Ruth studied her face closely, searching for any clue that she was that woman. “Are you saying Mama lied to me?”

“You’re overthinking this,” Carlotta said quickly. “You have a mother who loves you. I’ve met too many people on the road who would give anything to live the life you’ve had.”

“But I have another mother out there, somewhere. And she doesn’t love me.” The worry spilled out of her like a crashing wave.

Carlotta’s eyes held Ruth’s. “Why do you say that?”

Tears welled in her eyes. “She left me alone in a hotel room in the middle of winter. Who does that to a baby?”

“You were wrapped in a blanket, in a warm room, and I would guess it wasn’t long before Edna found you. Like I said, no one sneaks on this property without your mother knowing it.”

“Mama said the woman must have arrived during the storm, delivered me, and then left.”

“I’ve known of women who were alone with a baby on the way. Say what you want about this woman, but she cared for you in the only way she could.”

“Are you her?” Ruth whispered.

Silence cut between them as Carlotta’s expression grew tender. “No, Ruth, I am not.”

Ruth studied the eyes that looked nothing like her own. Would Carlotta lie to her?

As if reading her mind, Carlotta said, “I promise you, I did not give birth to you.”