Addie leaned over the kitchen counter and studied the old photo. The tiny size of the baby. The grief on Jules’s face. She’d wanted to call Jules when they’d found the photo yesterday and ask her about it, but Noah wanted Jesse to look into it first.
She lifted her hot chocolate and sipped the warm liquid before glancing toward the hallway. Noah was in the shower. He’d tried to get intohershower, but she’d all but pushed him out. They needed to get to the bottom of this Jules stuff today—now.
Her phone vibrated with a text.
Cass: Hey. I just finished another therapy session, and I was wondering if I could come over and talk to you about the other day? Toby encouraged me to apologize in person.
Her brows lifted. Well, Toby may not have had an effect on Noah, but he seemed to be doing wonders for Cass.
If she was home by herself, she would have said no, but since Noah was here…
Addie: Sure. Stop over whenever you’re free.
She texted Cass Noah’s address, then her attention shifted back to the old photo. Why was Jules so sad? Did somethinghappen to her baby? Is that why Jesse’s background check hadn’t found a child?
Regardless of why Jules looked sad in the photo, Addie was upset that the thing had gotten so damaged in the weather. The photo was obviously old and valuable. And if Jules didn’t have a digital copy, it made it irreplaceable.
Hang on, was it dated? Her parents always dated photos.
She turned it over.
No date. She was about to turn it back over when her thumb ran over a light indent in the paper. She paused before running her finger over the same place again.
Somethinghad been written there. Maybe the rain had washed it away.
She needed a pencil.
She pulled open Noah’s junk drawer and started rummaging through it. Pens. Scissors. A ball of rubber bands in a knot. Her gaze landed on a lead pencil.
Gotcha.
She returned to the photo and gently shaded over the indentations.
It was a name…Alison. Then numbers. No, not numbers—a date.
Two, slash, four, slash…
She gasped at the last number.
The pencil dropped from her fingers, and she took a big step back, her hip hitting the counter behind her.
“Hey, I’m still waiting for Jesse’s call.”
She jumped at Noah’s voice and looked up to see him walking into the kitchen.
“She might have put the baby up for adoption,” he continued. “I can’t think of any other reason she’d have that photo and would have told you that she still has a daughter, when Jesse’s check came up with nothing.”
Adoption…the word made another rock drop in her belly.
Noah stopped in front of her, finally studying her face. He frowned. “What’s wrong?” He cupped her cheek, concern darkening his eyes.
“There was a date on the back of the photo. Noah…it’s my birth date.”
He glanced at the photo.
“There was also a name,” she continued. “Alison. And a few months ago, Jules calledmeAlison by accident.”
Noah’s eyes flared. “And you were adopted.”
