Cris shook his head. ‘Frank’s mom, Dorina, was an only child, so there’s no family left on her side. After she passed away, our dad remarried my mother. Frank and I are half-brothers, you see.’

I scrunched my face in concentration. I hadn’t realized Cris and Frank only shared the same father until now.

‘You know what, I’m sure you’d like to see what your mother looked like, wouldn’t you?’ Rosie said, snapping her fingers and standing up from the table. She hurried into the kitchen, taking something out of a drawer before hurrying back into the dining area.

‘Oh wow, is this her?’ I asked as Rosie handed me an old photograph.

My hand shook as I took in my mother’s features, the chocolate brown curly hair, heart-shaped face and the beginnings of the thick Dominio brows. In the photo, my mother was young, not quite yet a teenager, but the similarities were striking. Teresa was standing next to a bench licking a melting ice cream cone, the joy on her face so palpable I felt myself smiling.

‘You guys look so much alike,’ Andie said, leaning over my shoulder to look at the photo. ‘Same little button nose and everything.’ Andie reached up with her pointer finger and booped me on the nose. I shooed her hand away. ‘Not very tall though, huh?’

‘Nah,’ Cris said, leaning back in his chair. ‘Even when she was fully grown, she was probably only about 5′2″ or 5′3″. Her personality sure was big, though.’ He glanced off to the side and grimaced for a moment on these last words. Did he disapprove of my mother’s bold nature? At the same time, I couldn’t help thinking how different my mother and I seemed. Polar opposites really. I’d always been a bit reserved but had chalked that up to years of taking a backseat to Andie’s loud gregariousness.

I smiled, thanking Rosie for sharing the photo and handing it back. Rosie looked at the photo with fondness before hustling back to the kitchen to fetch coffee.

While we sipped our coffee, Rosie did most of the talking. ‘Your job sounds so interesting, Liz. Is that what you’ve always wanted to do?’

Shaking my head, I replied, ‘No, I’m just getting started in my career, so I’m hoping this job will be a stepping-stone. Ideally, I’d love to be a journalist or a reporter. Research is kind of my thing and one day I’d love to hunt down more important stories.’

‘That’s very ambitious of you,’ Cris said, with a hint of a smile. For some reason, it was a relief that he seemed to approve of my career goals.