felt weak.
“Grandpa…”
A terrible thought formed in my mind.
“Are Caleb and I related?”
His head snapped toward me.
“No.”
The force in his voice startled me.
“No, sweetheart. Absolutely not. Not by blood. Not in any way.”
Relief hit so hard I almost laughed.
“Then why are you acting like this?”
Grandpa looked down at Nora again.
“Your mother used to be Caleb’s nanny.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“When Caleb was seven, Sarah worked for his family.”
Grandpa swallowed.
“She lived in their house for a while.”
Then he looked straight at me.
“And so did you.”
I couldn’t move.
“You were four or five.”
A strange image flickered through my mind.
“A garden.”
Grandpa froze.
“There was a really big garden.”
“Yes.”
Then another memory surfaced.
“A red bicycle.”
His eyes filled again.
“Yes.”
“And there was a boy.”
I pressed a hand against my chest.
