I looked up at Mia. All nine of them were watching me.
Then it clicked.
“You knew?” I asked.
She nodded. “We figured it out from the letters. But we didn’t know how to tell you.”
I looked at her differently now—the way she carried herself, the way she sometimes looked at me. It all made sense.
I pulled her into a tight hug.
“I don’t need a DNA test.”
She laughed softly. “I know.”
I called the others in, and we all embraced.
“You’re all my daughters,” I said. “That doesn’t change anything.”
And it didn’t.
