Once she had the dough all prepped for baking the next morning, she slid the pans into the baking racks in the refrigerated room. The bakery had become well-known for the cinnamon buns Angela made, so it was something she did every day.
“Are there more muffins, Ang?” Jenn asked as she stepped through the doorway.
“Yep.” Angela helped her carry a couple of trays of muffins to the bakery cabinet in the front.
Angela made note of other things that were running low, then went to the back to get what they had. Making the cinnamon rolls was the last thing she did each day. The bakery was open until three, but since she started at four each morning, Angela only worked until noon.
It was New Year’s Day, but Patty had insisted they still open. Kiara was also working at her cashier’s job at the gas station, so she wouldn’t be home until three.
The walk from the bakery was frigid, and Angela was glad to step into the warmth of the house. She popped in to check on Miss Ida, then made her way down to the apartment.
She shed her coat and hung it on a hook near the door, shivering as she rubbed her arms. The basement apartment was never truly warm, but after the biting cold outside, even the slightly chilly air felt like a blessing.
Angela checked her phone—still three hours and forty minutes until Jude would call back. Three hours and forty minutes to prepare herself. To figure out what she wanted to say. She needed Kiara's advice, but that would have to wait.
Moving to the kitchenette, Angela filled the electric kettle and switched it on.
As she waited for the water to boil, she went into the small bedroom to change out of her work clothes and into a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. She also pulled on a pair of thick fluffy socks since her feet were always cold.
When she returned to the kitchen, the kettle had already clicked off. She began to prepare the tea. Selecting her favorite mug, dropping in the tea bag, pouring the steaming water. The familiar movements calmed her. She cupped the warm mug between her palms as she settled onto the couch.
She picked up her journal from the end table and opened it to where she’d put the printout of the photograph of the woman.
Carefully unfolding it, Angela gazed at the elegant woman in the photograph, so poised and confident on the arm of a famous athlete. How could someone like that be related to her—a girl who'd never even finished high school properly? Who lived in a basement and worked for minimum wage?
But what if she doesn’t want me in her life? What if I'm not good enough for her world?
The questions swirled in her mind like the steam rising from her tea.
Angela folded the paper and put it back in the journal, then closed it and set it aside. The waiting was going to drive her crazy.
She spent the next hour tidying their already spotless apartment, then tried to read, but the words blurred together on the page. Every few minutes, she found herself checking her phone for the time.
When the door finally opened and Kiara burst in, stamping snow from her boots, Angela nearly jumped out of her skin.
"You look like you've seen a ghost," Kiara said, unwinding her scarf. "What's wrong?"
"Someone called," Angela said, her voice barely above a murmur. "About the picture. About… her."
Kiara froze, one boot half off her foot. "What? When? What did they say?"
"It was a man. He said his name was Jude Kessler. He's a friend of the family." Angela twisted her hands together. "They want me to take a DNA test."
"Oh my goodness, Angie." Kiara kicked off her remaining boot and hurried over, dropping into the chair across from Angela. "Tell me everything. Word for word."
Angela recounted the conversation as best she could remember, watching Kiara's eyes grow wider with each detail.
"They're taking this seriously," Kiara said when Angela finished. "If they're willing to pay for a DNA test, they must think there's a real possibility you’re related."
"Or they just want to hand me definitive proof that I’m not the woman’s sister."
"Angie." Kiara reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "Don't do that. Don't assume the worst before you even know what's happening."
Angela looked down at the time on her phone. “I guess I just don’t want to get my hopes up, you know? So it’s better to just assume the worst.”
“Angie, this might be your chance to get out of here.”
Angela shook her head. “What about you?”
