I thought the whole thing was a bit silly, honestly. I spat in the little tube to make my granddaughter happy and mailed it off and forgot about it.
Six weeks later my phone rang. A woman about my age, her voice trembling. She said the website had matched us as close relatives. As full sisters.
I almost laughed. ‘There must be a mistake, dear. I’m an only child. My mother told me so my whole life.’
But she had done her homework. She named my mother’s maiden name. She named the town in Kentucky where my mother grew up. She named a year — 1948 — three years before I was born.
My mouth went dry. ‘Where,’ I asked her slowly, ‘did you get that name?’
THE STORY CONTINUES ON THE NEXT PAGE… 👇👇👇
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