Both of them had decided what I could survive without.

I lifted the photograph again.

A name was written beneath Mom’s daughter.

“I’m contacting her.”

Mr. Lewis stood. “Are you sure?”

My answer was the first completely honest thing I had said all day.

That night, I found Mom’s daughter online.

Her profile was filled with birthday celebrations, school events, vacations, and beach photographs.

Mom appeared in almost every image.

I sent a single message.

“I believe we have the same mother. Did she ever mention a daughter named Simone?”

I included my phone number.

Her reply arrived the next morning.

“Our mom doesn’t have another daughter.”

I sent her a photograph of the fifth-birthday card.

Less than a minute later, my phone rang.

“Where did you get that?” she demanded.

“She told us she never had children before us. She said she’d been married.”