The Carter estate was quiet, but Grandma Carter was not resting. She sat in her wide chair near the tall window, her cane resting against her knee. The night outside was calm, yet her thoughts were far from peaceful.

Ever since the meeting with the Denovans, her mind had been turning without pause. She replayed every word, every pause, every careful smile on Mr and Mrs Denovan’s faces. They had been polite, gracious, but also guarded. She had seen it clearly in the way they spoke. They were hiding something.

And then came the small slip. They had a daughter.

A hidden daughter.

Grandma Carter tapped her cane lightly against...