I’M HALF AN HOUR EARLY LEAVING FOR WORK BECAUSE I need to get away. I hope the walk to the café will clear my head. My mind is still spinning over all I’ve learned—the baby, the school closing, my creepy dream. This morning, I researched Our Lady of Infinite Sorrows private school while my mom was in the shower, which led me to an obituary for a Father Terry Michaels. He was listed as a member of the faculty, but there was no mention of the cause of death or anything to do with the school itself. The black-and-white portrait showed a man with a square jaw and wide smile. Dark, rectangular glasses framed round eyes that looked light in color. And his obviously graying hair was combed back in sleek waves. He died less than five years after my mother graduated. That couldn’t have been but a couple of years after the closing of the school. I’d hoped to find more, but my mother came out of the bathroom, and I hid my phone under the table.

“You okay?” Daniel asks when I get to the café too soon. “You seem edgy or something.”

“I’m fine,” I say to convince both of us. But one look at his face, and I crumble. Daniel has this way of looking so genuine. It makes me want to spill my guts. I think of our confessions yesterday. I’ve already trusted him with a part of myself I shared with no one else. “My mom and I had a fight. But I’m fine now. It’s just weird with her.”

“You don’t have to tell me. I met her, remember?”

He’s teasing, but also not. I laugh, grateful he can make me do that. “Do you ever feel like your parents are hiding something from you? I mean, not something little like the occasional joint, but something big, like a whole other family or that you were adopted or something like that.”

Daniel’s face broadens with surprise. “Sounds like more than a little fight going on between you and your mom.”

Isn’t it always? “Forget I said anything.”

“No, don’t do that. You got me interested now. You’re going to have to spill.”

I feel foolish for bringing it up. I barely know this guy, and already my family troubles are getting in the way. “It’s nothing.”

“Doesn’t sound like nothing. Sounds big.”