Page 100 of Secrets Hidden In The Glass
Chapter Eighteen
Callie sat back against the pile of pillows on Nate’s big bed, sipping the chicken noodle soup he’d made for her while she’d been warming up in the shower.
“How’s that?” he asked as he covered them with the blankets and wrapped his arm around her.
“Really good.” She relaxed against him, resting her cheek on his naked shoulder. While she’d put on one of his T-shirts she often wore for pajamas, he’d ditched his damp clothes and pulled on a pair of sweatpants.
“Good,” he mumbled into her hair, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“Thank you, Nate.”
“You’re welcome.” He kissed her again. “Go ahead and have some more.”
She took another sip, finding herself surprisingly soothed despite the turn the day had taken. She’d needed to run and come to grips with the shock of her discovery and what that most likely meant, but she needed this too—probably even more. She rarely allowed herself to be vulnerable, but there was something about Nate’s steady, gentle ways that commanded she let him into the deepest parts of her.
“Are you up for taking another look at the picture?”
She nodded, ignoring the fresh waves of fear, knowing she owed Nate several explanations. He’d given her space on the drive home, holding her hand and offering her silent support instead of peppering her with questions.
“There’s no rush.”
She shook her head. “I’m okay.”
He reached over to the nightstand, grabbing the laptop and photograph he’d brought upstairs with him.
She stared at the picture, gripping the mug tighter in her hands as the panic and disbelief of seeing her face in the long-ago image came rushing back.
“This was taken by the old Main Street church.”
“I noticed that too.” She leaned closer, scrutinizing the woman and child. “She and I look alike.”
He sighed as he opened the MacBook to the picture Mom had sent. “Yeah, you do. This little girl looks an awful lot like the little girl on your computer screen.”
“And the woman. She and I look a lot alike too.”
He nodded. “There’s certainly a strong resemblance.”
She nibbled her lip, studying the woman and child’s identical brow line—the one she saw when she looked in the mirror every day. “Do you think it’s me? Do you think she’s my biological mother?”
He blew out another breath. “I wish I could come out and give you a definitive yes, but the honest answer is, I just don’t know. The law enforcement side of me needs more to work with—absolute proof.”
Her shoulders sagged. “But this is all I have.”
“I know. But that doesn’t mean we’ve hit a dead end. I have a contact at the FBI—”
She blinked as she tensed. “FBI?”
He nodded again. “My neighbor in Virginia is a special agent. We grabbed a beer at the local bar on occasion—talked a little shop.”
“Oh.” She set the half-empty mug on the nightstand as her stomach started growing queasy.
“You don’t like the idea?”
She shrugged. “I don’t—It’s a lot to take in. I found that a couple of hours ago,” she pointed to the picture. “Now the Federal Bureau of Investigation’s getting involved.”
“It would be something they would look into on the side—a favor. Unfortunately, this won’t be their first priority, but they would be able to help us get some of the answers you’re looking for—namely if they believe this is you.”
“How?”
