CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

TREY STOOD OUTSIDE THE REDDISH-BROWN BRICK DUPLEX apartment, wondering if it could really be true. Did he have a little sister who’d been living here all this time, right around the corner?

He’d never bothered to investigate. Thoughts of his dad’s other woman only made him angry. He knew she was a professor at Wash U who worked with his father—which made the weeks on campus following the revelation difficult. But he hadn’t cared to ask questions beyond that. His mother had been his concern, and once she passed he didn’t want to deal with any of it. It’d been a relief when his dad decided to take a sabbatical and spend time at the University of Ghana, far from the scandal.

But he and Lance had talked about it earlier this week, and he realized he had no answers to the questions Lance asked about his sister. Trey hadn’t given her much thought. She’d been a package deal with her mother, a symbol of his dad’s betrayal. But the more he thought about it, the more he realized he needed answers . . . for himself.

And they were easy to find. He knew the woman’s name, and though her information was unpublished in official directories, nothing was sacred online. It wasn’t surprising that he found her within a few clicks. The surprise was where.

Trey had been so shocked that he’d jotted down the address, closed the laptop, and walked directly here, in seven minutes. But he wasn’t sure of his next move. Go ahead and knock? Write a letter? Maybe it was an old address, and they’d moved.

He went with his first instinct, walked inside, and found the door. When he heard nothing on the other side, he suspected no one was home. But moments after he knocked, the apartment door opened.

The woman was shorter than his mother, maybe five four. And younger. And white. If he was honest, he admitted to himself that it had added to the hurt—that his dad cheated with a white woman.

“Hello,” he said. “My name is Trey. Actually, Marlon Woods III.”

“I know who you are, Trey.” She tucked a strand of her chin-length bob behind her ear. “I’m Ellen Patterson. What can I do for you?”

“Well.” Awkward was an understatement. Trey was suddenly glad he’d shaved and gotten a haircut over the weekend. “I guess it’s simple. I’d like to meet my sister, if that’s all right.”

“She’s at a day camp,” Ellen said. “But does your dad know you’re here?”

“No, he doesn’t,” Trey said. “Does it matter?”

“I was hoping he’d sent you, if you want to know the truth.” Ellen’s arms were folded, her mouth tight. “Brooklyn hasn’t heard from him in months.”

“Brooklyn? That’s her name?”

Ellen nodded.

“How old is she?”

“Just turned eight.” She eyed him. “Tell you what, if you want to come in, I can show you a picture of her.”

“I’d like that.”

Trey stayed for an hour, looking at picture albums of Brooklyn Renee Patterson. It was weird, the way she came to life in his heart. Her laughing smile and big brown eyes seemed to grab him from the page.

He looked at Ellen. “It’s crazy that Brooklyn lives around the corner, and we’ve never met. Do you think you could bring her over one day, to spend time with Kendra and me?”

“Kendra’s here?” Ellen said. “I thought she lived in DC.”

“She’s in town, yes, for a little while.”

Ellen thought a moment. “I don’t have a problem with that,” she said. “Maybe it’s time.”