a nervous laugh. “You know his name. Caleb.”
Whatever Grandpa had been afraid of, hearing that name confirmed it.
He sank into the wicker chair.
“Caleb. And his father?”
“William. Grandpa, you’re scaring me.”
He pressed his lips against Nora’s forehead and shut his eyes.
“No, sweetheart. God, no.”
The porch seemed to tilt beneath me.
“Grandpa. Please. Are you telling me Caleb and I are…”
I couldn’t finish.
His head snapped up.
“No, sweetheart. God, no. You are not related. Not by blood.”
Relief hit me so hard I
