Danielle’s hands came up, a gesture that said, See? My sister’s brilliant. “Do you also write?”

“Just poetry.” She gave a self-conscious shrug. “Maggie’s like that, too. Really into books.”

“Not a writer, though,” Maggie said.

The sisters started discussing authors. Did you read so-and-so’s this, not that one but his latest? I did, and what about his first one? Then Danielle asked, “Are you majoring in English?”

“I haven’t gone to college yet.” Lowering her gaze to the table, Linnie smoothed her napkin. “Didn’t even graduate from high school”—she glanced up and wrung the napkin like a wet washcloth—“though I’m signed up to take the GED in the spring.”

“Oh.” Danielle frowned, confused.

“I got pregnant my junior year and dropped out.” She released the napkin. “I have a five-year-old. Her name is Kate.”

Danielle’s mouth fell open and stayed that way. When she finally got some words out, there were only two: “A daughter.”

Linnie nodded once.

Tears filled Danielle’s eyes.

Linnie’s hands flew to her cheeks. “I’m sorry to disappoint—”

“Disappoint?” The sister fumbled with her napkin and pressed it hard against her eyes. Then she settled a fierce look on Linnie. “A niece. I have a niece. A sister and a niece.” Napkin to the face again, a muffled apology, then: “I can’t believe I went for so long…” She cleared her throat and continued huskily, “Wondering about you—praying you’d let me meet you, just so damn blown away that I had a biological relation.” She blew her nose into her napkin. “Not that I’m ungrateful. I know I was lucky to get adopted. And I love my parents. I couldn’t love them more if they’d brought me into the world. But to find out about you was … something else. And now I learn there are two of you. Two people who share my blood. It’s—it’s just…” She exhaled shakily. “Amazing.”

Linnie started crying, too.

They shared a look, then sobbed a laugh. The same laugh: sudden and surprised.

Maggie couldn’t stop herself. She began to sniffle as well.

Danielle wiped her eyes on her sleeve. “Tell me about my niece. Kate. Does she look like you?”

“More like her dad. But she’s really…”

Maggie waited. Stubborn?

“Terrific,” Linnie finished on a sigh.

“Smart?”

“Oh gosh, so smart.”

“And probably beautiful.”

“Just darling.”

“What else?”

“Super creative, funny, and sweet.”

“May I meet her?”

“Of course.”

“Right now? Today?”

Linnie laughed. “Sure.”

“Tell me more about her.”

And Linnie did, saying quite a few things that didn’t match the Kate that Maggie had gotten to know. Not that she thought Linnie was lying—just that Maggie was realizing that there was a side of Kate that she didn’t get to see.