Two days had passed since she brought Blackie home from A Stitch in Time. She was touched by the gift of the kitten and by the warmth of her new friends. It was generosity she could never have anticipated and trust she had no right to claim. They all cared about her search for her mother’s story, and they cared about Carla. How strange that the two were inextricably linked. Wonderingly, Tara played their conversation over in her mind. “You found the clipping, didn’t you?” Carla Calloway had fixed her with wary eyes, favoring her bandaged arm as she sat behind her desk. Just released from the hospital, she probably should be in bed, but she had quickly resumed her duties. “I—I didn’t mean to pry,” Tara stammered. “I was just cleaning up a little and …” She met her employer’s gaze, trying to analyze the expression on her face. Carla stood and walked to the window.
