I adopted my best friend's four daughters as her final wish — 10 years later, flowers arrived with a note from her that made my knees tremble.

I drove home faster than I should have.

The black car was gone by the time I turned onto our street, but Maya was standing on the front porch with her arms crossed, watching me pull into the driveway with the expression Lily used to make when she knew something was wrong and was waiting for someone to stop pretending otherwise.

I got out of the car.

She didn't move.

"Who was she?" Maya asked.

"Come inside."

"Mom."

"Inside, Maya.

Please."

She followed me in.

The younger three were upstairs — I could hear Dani's music through the ceiling and Bea's occasional shout from what sounded like a game.

Cora was at the kitchen table with a book, and she looked up when we came in, read both our faces, and quietly closed the book.

"Should I go upstairs?" Cora asked.

"No," Maya said.

"Stay."

I sat down.

They both sat down.

I looked at my two oldest daughters — one who had Lily's eyes and one who had Lily's stillness — and I told them the truth.

Not all of it.

Not yet.

But enough.

I told them that their father had come looking for them.

That he hadn't known about them until recently.

That he wasn't the problem.

"Then what is the problem?" Cora asked.

"His mother."

Maya's jaw tightened.

"The woman in the car."

"I don't know for certain that it was her.

But probably someone she sent."

"Why does she care about us?"

I chose my words carefully.

"She wants to establish a connection to you.

Legally."

Cora was quiet for a moment.

Then: "She wants custody."

"She's attempting to.

Yes."

Maya stood up so fast her chair scraped back.

"She doesn't know us.

She has never met us.

She can't just—"

"Maya."

"No." Her voice cracked on the word, just once.

"We're not going anywhere.

This is our home.

You're our mom.

She can't come here with a lawyer and take us away because she suddenly decided we exist."

"She's not going to take you anywhere," I said.

"I promise you that."

"How can you promise that?"

It was the right question.

I didn't have a clean answer.

"Because your mother left us everything we need to stop her," I said.

"And because Richard Calloway is willing to stand against his own mother to make sure you're protected."

That stopped Maya.

She looked at me.

"He said that?"

"He did."

She sat back down slowly.

Her hands were flat on the table.

Cora spoke quietly.

"What was she like?

Our dad?"

"Careful," I said.

"Honest, I think.

Sad."

"Does he want to know us?"

"I believe so.

But that's your choice.

All four of yours.

Nobody is going to force anything."

Cora nodded slowly.

Maya was still looking at the table.

"Mom," Maya said.

"I want to see the note.

The whole thing.

All the pages."

I had known this was coming.

I had been deciding since the lawyer's office whether to show her.

I reached into my bag and set the three pages on the table.

Then I set Patricia's copy of the final page beside them.

Maya picked them up.

She read slowly.

Cora leaned in to read alongside her.

When Maya reached the part about Eleanor coming to the hospital, her face went very still.

She set the pages down.

"She sat next to my mother while she was dying," Maya said, "and told her we'd follow the money."

"Yes."

Maya looked up at me.

Her eyes were dry.

Her voice was steady.

"Then let's make sure she finds out she was wrong."

I heard a creak on the stairs.

Dani was standing on the bottom step, half-hidden by the wall, with the careful expression of someone who had been listening for longer than they'd meant to.

"Sorry," Dani said.

"I heard my name."

We hadn't said her name.

But I understood.

She had heard enough.

"Come sit down," I said.

She came and sat beside Cora.

She didn't ask any questions yet.

She just reached across the table and put her hand over mine.

That was when I heard a knock at the front door.

Not a delivery driver this time.

Three sharp, deliberate knocks.