In the picture, two young women dressed in graduation caps and gowns sat astride horses, their closeness evident in their body language and expressions. Even through the adolescent features, Quinn could tell one of them was definitely her mother. She turned the photo over and saw Carmen Crowe and Me scribbled on it with a date of a year before Quinn was born.

Who was Carmen Crowe?

Quinn wished she’d pushed her mother more to talk about the past. Over the years, as Quinn grew older and more curious, her mom had only told her that Maui was a beautiful and magical place, but her childhood had been ugly. The few times Quinn had tried to squeeze more out of her had caused her mother to retreat into silence. It was clear that her mom had loved Maui, but whatever it was that had kept her from returning there must’ve been traumatic. Quinn had hoped one day her mother would be ready to talk about it.

That day never came.

But if Quinn could find this hopefully living, breathing person from the photo, it could help her find out something about her mother. Carmen was obviously someone important. Important enough that it was the only photo of her past she’d saved. So was she a best friend? Cousin?

As though her mother’s death wasn’t hard enough to get over, Quinn was also spiraling because of the quietly explosive way she’d left. She couldn’t quite believe it or even process it. Not that Quinn had known her father at all, but it was still mind-boggling that she’d spent her life resenting the wrong man. All she knew was the man she’d thought was her father, Wesley Maguire, was someone her mother had been with for a short time many years ago. When they’d parted ways, Quinn was the only thing left of their relationship.

She’d been too young to remember him, but her mother had tried to reach out to him occasionally. As a young girl, Quinn had dreams that he’d show up at her door, ready to take her to the annual Daddy-Daughter Dance, holding a bouquet of flowers and apologizing for taking so long. He would be tall and good-looking, his eyes sparkling down at her with pride.

That never happened, but she’d still held out hope that he’d find her again in time to attend her high school graduation.

That didn’t happen either.

By the time Quinn was in college, she’d given up thinking he’d magically appear to walk her down the aisle on her eventual wedding day. And now her mother’s words echoed through her head at least a hundred times a day.

Wesley Maguire is not your father.