“How is this possible?” I whispered, and Biscuit lifted his head like he understood the question.
Hannah had been searching for months.
Adoption groups. Genealogy forums. DNA testing.
She knew her birth mother was from Iowa.
That was it.
The trail went cold.
My mind ran through the only explanations it could tolerate.
- A cousin I didn’t know?
- A long-lost relative?
- A coincidence so insane it felt cruel?
Then another thought hit me hard enough to make my chest ache.
What if I didn’t know the full story of my own life?
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