“What is it?” I asked.

“I have the old medical records,” Rose said. “From the clinic where Claire was born.”

“What do the records say, Rose?”

“They show the blood types,” Rose said. “They show the DNA test I had done when she was a baby.”

“Why did you have a DNA test?” I asked, my heart stopping.

“Because I knew who the father was,” Rose said. “And it wasn’t the man I was married to at the time.”

I sat frozen in the chair.

The room seemed to shrink around me.

The silence in the house grew deafening, save for the quiet static coming from the phone speaker.

“Evelyn?” Rose’s voice called out from the desk.

I couldn’t answer her.

My eyes fell on a small, blue ledger book at the very bottom of the metal box.

I reached in and pulled it out.

The cover was worn, the corners frayed.

I opened it to the first page.

It was a diary of sorts, written in Richard’s handwriting from twenty years ago.

The first entry was dated June 14th.