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“Oh, um… I don’t know how much you know, but I never met JD. I wasn’t even aware I still had any living family.” That makes her smile finally leave her face, and I hate the pity.

“Oh, Hanna. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I can go. I don’t want to overwhelm you, and I basically just shoved my own foot in my mouth.”

“No, no. Please. I don’t expect you to know a stranger’s whole life story. It’s no big deal.” I pause, shocked that I’m about to admit this aloud, as it is very unlike me. “Besides, I could use the company. Today really has been a lot.”

Her features soften, and she reaches out, placing her hand on my forearm. “Listen, I may be a stranger, but I don’t have to be. I’m here to be a friend and get to know you, and in time, if you feel like you wanna talk about it, you so can.”

“Thank you.” I give her a nod, my tongue clicking as I shift the conversation. “I will be going to the bank tomorrow, and I really insist you let me pay you back for all this.” I wave my hand over the bags of food we begin to unpack.

“Not a chance. I told you it’s a welcome gift.”

Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “Fine, at least let me order us some pizza tonight.” I have a credit card with a little room on it; it’s the least I can do for her kindness.

“I won’t say no, and check it out! There are still some beers in the fridge,” she says, and I turn with my hands filled with items and smile. Sure enough, there are some beers left in the fridge. “Oh, and some nasty molded leftovers. Those need to go.”

“Ew.”

She pulls out some glassware with moldy food that looks like lasagna—or what used to be. “Yeah.” Moving to the trash, she dumps it out. “Remind me to take that out before I leave tonight.” We both laugh.

“For sure. Now, pizza joint recommendations?”

“Yes! The only pizza shop we have in town, Mama Zeppa’s.” She pulls out her cell and makes work of typing something. “Here’s the number. I’m simple; pepperoni is my favorite. But they have some really good ones. I know New York is famous for pizza, so I bet you have better taste than me.”

“No, pep is good. A personal favorite of mine as well.”

“Look at that, already one thing in common.” Winking, she pops the tops on two beers.

Placing an order and finishing up putting away the groceries, we finally make it into the living room with beers in hand.

“So what do you plan to do now that you’re here?” Brenda asks.

Debating, I quickly think over if I want to tell her everything. Sure, she has shown me kindness and seems like she would be able to handle the story, but is it too much?

“Hey, you can talk to me. I promise I’m a great listener. My parents and brother can attest to that.” She laughs, and I return it with a sheepish smile.

“Well, I think I need to just figure out as much as I can about JD. Find myself a little bit in the process,” I mumble off the last part.

“You really didn’t know about him at all?” Her brows furrow.

“No. I mean, I knew there had to be grandparents at some point, but whether they knew of me or if they were still alive was the question.”

“Your parents never kept you in contact with him?”

I scoff, messing with the neck of the beer bottle. “They didn’t even keep me in contact with them. I was a foster kid.”

“Holy hell, Hanna.” It isn’t a shocked response; no, it’s filled with empathy.

“Yeah. My parents didn’t really want to be parents. Dumped me in the state’s hands and skipped town.”

“Grade-A parenting there,” she mocks, and this actually makes me chuckle a bit.

“The best.”

“So, clearly, JD knew of you. How come he didn’t make himself known to you?”

I shrug. “You and I are wondering the same thing.” I take a swig of my beer. “I think that’s been the hardest pill to swallow with this whole thing. Not the house or inheritance but the why. Why did he never come to me when he knew I was out there this entire time?”

“I wish I had those answers for you.” I can tell she wants to ask something, but she hesitates.

“What? You can ask me.”

“Well…” Readjusting herself, she sits on her feet, tucking them under her. “Do you know where your parents are? Can you ask them?” Okay, maybe I don’t need to be so willing to just take questions about my life. That one hurt me more than I anticipated it would.

“No, I don’t. I could probably pay to find them with the inheritance, but I would really have to think about what would come with all that.”

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