‘He’s my grandfather’s half-brother. Unfortunately, my grandfather died just before I got in contact with Cris so I didn’t get a chance to meet him. My mother, she died years ago.’ I trailed off into a tense silence, staring down at my cream and navy striped espadrilles resting on the beige carpet so I didn’t have to look them in the eyes. My dad reached over and put a warm, comforting hand on my knee. I looked up at him, finding myself holding back tears.

‘Lizzie, I’m so sorry your mother and grandfather passed before you had the chance to meet them. That must be extremely hard for you. But we’re glad you’re getting answers and don’t blame you for wanting to know more. Have you been able to find out much from them?’

‘A little,’ I responded. ‘We’re still getting to know each other. It seems like Teresa, my mother, was troubled like you said. They don’t know anything about my father unfortunately, so he’s still a mystery. But Cris, he’s a vet, which is cool. They foster animals at their home all the time. And my aunt, she runs his office and is so sweet. You guys would like her.’

My mom nodded, giving me a smile. ‘Maybe we could all get together one day.’ She wiped a trail of tears off her rosy cheek. ‘We never meant to hurt you or to keep you from them, Lizzie.’

When I saw my mom’s tears, I knew I should probably drop it and move forward but I had to ask one more time. ‘Why didn’t you ever tell me? And don’t say the timing was never right. There were plenty of opportunities over the years.’

My dad opened his mouth to speak but my mom put her hand on his arm. ‘We had planned all along to tell you on your seventh birthday. We thought that was a good age for you to understand. But then you fell off the jungle gym at your party and broke your arm.’ She paused and touched my arm. ‘Remember? I just … I don’t know, I took it as a sign that it wasn’t the right time. It wasn’t your dad’s fault. He still wanted to tell you.’ My dad put his arm around her while she cried. ‘After that, we just kept putting it off until …’ she glanced at my dad again, seeking comfort, ‘well, we just buried it and convinced ourselves that it didn’t really matter who gave birth to you since you felt so much like ours. The more time that passed, the easier it was to sink into our comfortable lives and avoid having that difficult conversation. It was wrong, Lizzie.’ My mom’s grip on my arm tightened. ‘I’m so sorry, I know now it was a terrible mistake. Can you ever forgive us?’