Quinn squelched the urge to run, visualizing Kupuna’s kind face and the words he’d shared with her that morning. Perhaps the answers she was seeking were not about discovery at all but about forgiveness. Above all else, Quinn wanted healing. She needed to feel whole inside. Her entire life there had been a void—some deep, dark, empty place that was too unreachable to even begin to try to heal it. Even under the loving and devoted care her mother had given her, there was something missing. If her healing would only come about from forgiveness, then that was what she’d have to muster up, no matter what the story was.

She took a deep breath.

“Okay, I’m ready.”

Carmen nodded, then stood and held a hand out for Quinn.

Quinn took it, noting the surprising strength the woman had. When they stood and turned, the door was already open.

A woman stood there. She clutched the doorframe with one hand, her gnarled fingers like claws as she stared first at Maggie, then Quinn. She was old. At least in her eighties, if not beyond. Her white hair was pulled back in a severe bun that showed the large pearls weighing down her earlobes. Though her house was up high on the mountain and nearly backed into the jungle, she was dressed more like a socialite, a black sweater shell over a white blouse, her slacks showing a spiffy pressed crease. She wore one diamond ring, and the stone looked too heavy for such an old woman to bear.

Her expression was intense as she searched Quinn’s eyes.

Carmen nodded toward Quinn. “This is her.”

The old woman nodded back and stepped inside, a silent invitation.

It was an uncomfortable moment. No niceties. The silence was deafening, setting Quinn even more on edge.

“I’m Quinn. Thank you for seeing us.”

The woman nodded. “I’m Helen. Let’s sit down.”

With Maggie right behind her, Quinn followed as the old woman pursed her lips and held her shoulders as upright as she could manage, then led them to a family room.

She gestured for them to take a seat on the couch before disappearing down a hallway.

“This is all too mysterious, Carmen. Can we just—”

Carmen held her finger to her lips, shushing Quinn.

They heard some noise from a room down the hall. Some muttering and sliding of what sounded like boxes across a floor. Finally, Helen emerged again, carrying what appeared to be a boot box. She crossed the room to the rocking chair, set the box on the floor, and then took a seat.

She turned her attention back to Quinn, and her stare took on an intensity that Quinn had never experienced.

“Do you have a birthmark?” she asked.

Quinn nodded.

“Where is it?”

“Behind my ear.”

“Is it shaped like anything in particular?” she asked.