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down with more force than necessary, left the room, and stomped up the steps to the second floor.

Maggie took a deep breath and turned her attention to her granddaughter. “Are you hungry, Daisy?”

“I am very hungry, Nana.” Daisy picked the grapes off their stems one by one and put them onto the cheese plate, chatting away about the beach and the birds they saw and the shells she found.

All the while, Maggie fought off the feeling of dread that something terrible was about to happen, but she was at a loss to understand what, or why.

Grace and Natalie came downstairs looking very much like conspirators, Natalie’s jaw set and Grace’s eyes rimmed in red. Maggie decided to let it ride for the time being. Her daughters took their glasses and a bottle of wine and the cheese platter out to the deck, leaving Maggie to prepare dinner on her own, which she normally wouldn’t have minded. But she had the sense their turning their backs on her was a joint protest, and she was already weary of trying to figure out what was at the bottom of it. She slipped a CD into the player on the counter and filled the room with music, dancing with Daisy between putting the potatoes in the oven and getting the steaks ready to grill. For a few moments, she forgot about Natalie and whatever it was that had her in such a mood.

When dinner was ready, Maggie sent Daisy out to the deck to bring the others to the table. A minute later, Daisy came back inside and announced her mommy and Aunt Gracie wanted to eat on the deck.

“Well, then, go tell your mommy and your aunt Grace they can set the table out there.”

Maggie got out the plates, salad bowls, flatware, and napkins and placed them on the counter. She arranged the potatoes and steaks on serving platters and slid the green beans into a bowl. When Natalie, Grace, and Daisy came in, she merely pointed to the items that had to be carried outside. They each grabbed what they could, and moments later they were seated at the round table. Maggie’s hopes for a fun, carefree, lively dinner together disappeared the second she realized not only was Natalie avoiding addressing or even looking at her, but Grace had adopted her sister’s attitude. Only Daisy’s constant chatter kept the meal from being more like a wake than a family dinner.

“Daisy, I think it’s time to start getting you ready for bed,” Natalie announced as soon as she’d finished eating.

“I didn’t have ice cream. Nana said I could have ice cream if I ate my beans.” Daisy pointed to the empty spot on her plate, where several green beans had been lined up earlier.

“Well, Nana doesn’t get to decide,” Natalie said sharply. “Mom, I’d appreciate it if you left it to me to decide what she can eat and when.”

Too angry and hurt to speak, Maggie nodded without looking at her daughter and bit back her words. She and Natalie were going to have this out tonight, but not in front of Daisy.

Natalie helped a pouting Daisy from her chair.

“But Nana said—”

“Nana isn’t Mommy,” Natalie snapped.

“Mommy, you talked mean to me and to Nana. You should say you’re sorry.” Daisy’s bottom lip quivered.

“I’m sorry. Now let’s go upstairs and get your bath.” Natalie took Daisy’s hand and led her through the back door to the kitchen.

Maggie turned to say something to Grace, but Grace was following Natalie into the house.

“Shame on me for having raised such brats,” Maggie grumbled. “And shame on me for not realizing it until now.”

Maggie cleared the table, stacked the dishwasher, washed the pots and pans, and cleaned off the grill. She tried to get her emotions under control, but the anger inside her burned like hot coals, and the hurt had pierced her heart. She’d devoted so much of her life to raising her daughters, and now they’d both seemingly turned against her without explanation.

Well, she mused as she polished off the last bit of wine in the bottle, for better or for worse, that’s probably going to change within the hour.

She took her wine outside onto the deck, where she watched the sun drop into the harbor, determined not to give in to the feeling of dread that had engulfed her. She’d just closed her eyes and tried to think soothing thoughts when Natalie opened the door and said briskly, “Mom, would you come in here, please?”

As if facing her executioner, Maggie rose and went into the kitchen.

“Sword or ax?” She glanced from one daughter to the other.

“Funny, Mom.” Natalie gestured to the barstools.

“Mom, won’t you join us?” Maggie quipped sarcastically in her most saccharine voice. “Why, of course. I always enjoy spending time with my loving daughters.”

Natalie sighed heavily. “You’re not funny, and you’re not making this easier. Mom, do you know someone named Polly Wakefield?”

“Sure. She’s my mom’s aunt,” Maggie said.

“How ’bout Claire Lloyd?” Natalie tossed out the name.

“She’s my mom’s cousin. My second cousin, I guess.” Maggie grew more confused by the second. “But what do either of them have to do with anything?”

Natalie went to her bag and pulled out several sheets of paper. “These are emails I received over the past few months. I think you should read them.”

Mystified, Maggie grabbed her glasses from the counter, where she’d left them, and slid them on as she took a seat. Natalie handed her the papers, and Maggie began to read.

Time stood still as she attempted to understand what she was reading. She read the first printed page with her mouth open, one hand on her heart as if trying to keep it from leaving her chest.

My name is Joe Miller and I think I’m your half brother. Actually, according to the DNA results, I’m pretty positive I am.

“Oh. Oh . . . oh . . . ,” Maggie whispered, too stunned to speak beyond that one simple word.

Tears fell from her eyes, rolling down her face in

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