Something in her tone made me listen.
“She wasn’t your biological grandmother,” Desiree said gently.
I shook my head immediately. “No. That’s not. She raised me. She—”
“I know,” Desiree said quickly. “And she loved you. That part was real. Every bit of it.”
“Then what are you saying?”
Desiree took a slow breath.
“Years ago, your Nana found you.”
My mind went blank.
“Found me?”
“That part was real.”
“In the bushes,” Desiree said softly. “Near a walking path she used to take home. You were a baby, wrapped carefully, and you had that necklace around your neck.”
I stared at her.
“That’s not possible.”
“It is,” she said. “She brought you to me first. She didn’t know what to do. There was no note, no identification. Just you… and that necklace.”
I looked down, my heart pounding.
