Richard had used his legal connections to bypass the state completely, fabricating a paper trail that did not exist.

The sound of gravel crunched outside again.

I ran to the dining room window and looked out.

Claire’s blue sedan was pulling into the driveway, parking next to the spot where the courier’s SUV had just been.

She turned off the engine and sat there for a moment, adjusting her rear-view mirror.

I hurried to the dining room table.

I placed the unredacted court documents inside the manila folder, right beneath the DNA report and the photograph of Rose.

I smoothed down my skirt and tried to swallow the lump of fear in my throat.

The front door unlocked and clicked open.

“Mom?” Claire’s voice called out.

She walked into the entryway, letting her heavy canvas backpack slide off her shoulder and onto the floor.

“I’m in the dining room, sweetheart,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.

She appeared in the doorway, her dark hair slightly messy from the afternoon wind.

She looked at me, then at the dining room table where the single manila folder sat.