Page 114 of From Air

“And the asshole who did it?”

I retrieve folders and manila envelopes from the box. “He’s been charged with aggravated assault.”

“You seem preoccupied. I’ll let you go. I have some things to finish up before I can head home.”

“Sorry. I’m looking through a box of random documents that belonged to my mom. Trying to find ...” I blow out a breath. “I don’t know.” I set a stack of large envelopes on my lap. “I miss you, Fitz. And I’m not saying that to guilt you, I just—”

“I miss you too.”

His words wrap around my heart, giving it just what it needs after I showed that photo to Dwight.Uncle Dwight.

I open my mouth to sayI love you, but I stop short of those three words. He knows I love him. We’ve come too far. I don’t want to spook him. I want him to feel my love but not feel suffocated by it.

“I’ll book a flight for the end of October.”

“Sounds good.”

“Bye,” I murmur before ending the call.

Just as I suspected when I threw these papers in the box, they’re a bunch of tax returns, old rental agreements, and car-loan documents. Another envelope has my father’s death and birth certificates.

Karl Hayden Andrews

He was thirty-seven when he died—a computer engineer for NASA.

I don’t remember much about him, but I remember watching a shuttle launch from Kennedy Space Center. I remember being on his shoulders. At least, I think I remember. Maybe my mom showed me a picture, and I’m remembering that.

Her death certificate is in its envelope, which I shoved into the box before moving to Missoula. I sift through the papers to see if her birth certificate is there, but I come across mine first and set it aside to put it in a spot where I can find it easily.

I continue searching for her birth certificate and find it folded between her high school and college diplomas.

My chest grows heavier with each passing minute. Both her diplomas and her birth certificate saySamantha Grace Keane. Nothing has the name Lauren.

Why did she change her name?

I call Melissa.

“Hey. How are you doing?”

“Good,” I say, without sounding believable. “I need to find Barbara Keane, Dwight’s daughter. Today, I showed him a picture of my mom, and he knew ... he knew right away that she was his sister.”

“Damn.”

“I know. Right? I think I knew before I showed it to him, but I was still taken aback when he confirmed it. So I’ve been digging through this box of stuff I kept after cleaning out my mom’s place. I found her birth certificate and her high school and college diplomas. Her name was Samantha GraceKeane. Not Lauren Samantha Mendes, which she told me was her maiden name. The truth’s been right here all along.”

“Shit, Jamie. That’s . . .”

“I know. Trust me. I know. So before I announce a reunion with my uncle Dwight, I need to find Barbara,ifshe can be found. Something tells me she’s the only one who can help me make sense of this.”

“You need a private investigator. When I searched for Barbara Keane, my head was spinning because I couldn’t find any mention of her beyond the articles about the fire. And if she’s married, she’ll have a different name. But that’s beyond me. I’m not an investigator.”

“Is that crazy? Getting a private investigator?”

“Crazy is trying to figure this out yourself.”

Chapter Thirty-Six

The private investigator I hired is backed up, but he promised to start looking into Barbara Keane as soon as possible. On the one hand, I’m relieved because I’m still struggling to come to grips with the idea that my mom lied to me. On the other hand, I just want it over, the mystery solved, so I can move on with my life.

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