document toward me.
It was a recent DNA-match report.
Caleb had taken an ancestry test years earlier.
His closest paternal match had appeared only three months ago.
I looked at the name.
My mouth went dry.
Joseph Mercer.
Aunt Melissa’s husband.
Joe.
The man who had driven up from Knoxville.
The man who had been inside my house the day I came home.
I stared at Sherry.
“No.”
She nodded.
“Joe is Caleb’s biological father.”
I couldn’t speak.
Then the last pieces began falling into place.
Melissa had known.
That
