“I don’t know,” Kiara said as she rested her arms on the table. “But I have a feeling we’re going to find out.”
Angela still wasn’t sure that she wanted to go forward. Suddenly, the unknown loomed large, like a dark entity, waiting to deal her a harsh blow.
"What if they don't like me?" The question slipped out before Angela could stop it.
Kiara's expression softened. "Angie, how could anyone not like you?"
"I'm not exactly…" Angela gestured vaguely at herself. "I'm not sophisticated or educated or anything special."
"You're plenty special," Kiara insisted, squeezing Angela's hand. "And if they can't see that, then they don't deserve to know you."
Angela appreciated the sentiment, but doubt still gnawed at her. She tried to imagine meeting this woman, who looked somuch like her but seemed to inhabit an entirely different world. What would they even talk about?
"I should probably figure out what to wear," Angela said, trying to focus on practical matters.
They spent the evening talking through various scenarios, Kiara's enthusiasm balancing Angela's apprehension. By the time they went to bed, Angela had almost convinced herself that tomorrow might bring something good.
Sleep, however, proved elusive. Angela tossed and turned, her mind racing with possibilities both wonderful and terrible.
When her alarm went off at three, Angela quickly shut it off so it wouldn’t wake Kiara. Just like they always had, they shared a room, though unlike their younger years, when they’d also shared a bed, they now each had their own twin bed.
The only downside of sharing space was their different schedules. They’d had to learn to be quiet as they moved around when the other was sleeping.
After getting dressed, Angela braided her hair. She hoped to have time to come home and change before meeting with Jude and the DNA person. She didn’t really want to meet them sweaty and mussed from work.
Her stomach was a mess of knots, and she was thoroughly distracted throughout her shift. But thankfully, she didn’t make any mistakes in her baking. Patty would have been livid if she had.
Once her shift was done, she hurried home to take the quickest shower ever and then change into the blue sweater Kiara had suggested along with a pair of black slacks. Once dressed, she unwound her hair from its braid so that it lay just past her shoulders in loose waves.
The walk to the library was cold and blustery. They didn’t get much snow that stuck around through the winter, but she still hated the cold, damp days. She’d hated them on the homestead, and she hated them in Briar Hollow. There were times when she felt like she could never get warm.
When she reached the library, Angela saw a large black SUV in front of it. There were other cars parked on the street, but that one stood out in a town where most vehicles were dusty trucks.
Her steps came to a halt as she stared at the fancy SUV. She glanced at the heavy wooden and glass doors that led into the library and took a step back.
What was she getting herself into?
If Kiara hadn’t been at work, and was even now waiting inside with Jude Kessler, Angela would have turned around and left. In that moment, her fear of the unknown was far greater than her desire for answers.
But she had no choice. From the moment she’d agreed to Kiara calling Cole Halverson, she’d started on a journey of no return.
Clasping her hands together, Angela headed to the library entrance. She’d just reached out to grasp the handle of the door when it swung open.
She stepped back, preparing to let whoever was coming out to exit first. Only the man holding the door open with his outstretched arm didn’t exit. It seemed he was holding the door open for her.
“Angela,” he said with a nod, his voice familiar.
It wasn’t a question. It was as if he knew exactly who she was.
“Uh… are you Jude?” she asked as she stepped past him into the foyer of the library.
“I am.” He stepped to the side and held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Angela stared at his large hand for a moment before taking it. His grip was strong, and the warmth of his hand felt good against her cold fingers. He didn’t prolong the contact, releasing her hand after a gentle squeeze.
"Likewise," Angela murmured, finally looking up. Her breath caught slightly as her gaze met his.
He was tall—taller than she'd expected—with dark hair that was neatly trimmed and a shadow of stubble along his firm square jaw.
