PROLOGUE
November
They were supposed to arrive any minute. Pressing one hand on the slightly warped, freshly painted, white windowsill, Shannon Murphy looked out once again. And, just like she had every time before, she said a little prayer. Dear God, please let this go okay.
The seven words sounded hollow and awkward in the empty room. Since she’d never considered herself to be an especially religious person and didn’t have a lot of experience praying, she was embarrassed about the clumsy demand. She was pretty sure there were rules to praying that she didn’t know. However, she hoped God would give her a little leeway.
Especially since this was a pretty unusual circumstance. No, that wasn’t the right word at all. It was a special circumstance. A terrific occasion. In just a few minutes, at age twenty-seven, she was going to meet her sisters for the first time.
Well, the first time that she could remember.
That was the kicker, wasn’t it? Shannon felt a burst of pain slice through her insides. At least she had made some progress. Back when she first heard that she had two sisters she hadn’t known about, she’d done some cursing and yelling about the injustice of it all.
Twenty-four years ago, their mother had died suddenly. She’d left behind a mess of bills, a web of lies, and three little girls. The social workers, and ultimately the folks at the private adoption agency, ended up separating her and her sisters. Each had grown up never knowing about their past or their siblings. Only taking a DNA test on a whim—and the shock of learning that her parents hadn’t actually been her parents—had led to this moment. Well, that and a driving need to discover her past.
Now, after a flurry of emails and phone calls, the three of them had decided to live together for one year on the top floor of Shannon’s recently purchased building on the edge of downtown Bridgeport, Ohio.
Amazingly, though they were essentially strangers, they’d all agreed to give up pretty much everything in order to give their relationship and their future together a chance.
Their leaps of faith hadn’t come easy.
She had come from a small town in West Virginia. Her sisters Traci and Kimber were arriving from Cleveland and New York City, respectively. Back in Cleveland, Traci had been a big city cop. Kimber had lived a fancy life as a runway and print model in the middle of Manhattan. They’d both given up a lot in order to move to southern Ohio—and to help Shannon achieve her longtime dream of owning a ballroom dance studio.
Their sacrifices were humbling. Some would even say too generous. However, Shannon didn’t think any of them had an ounce of regret. It seemed a common mother combined with a need to know more about their past could overrule most any other obstacle.
Now, though she’d been the instigator, Shannon was feeling at a distinct disadvantage. Kimber had flown to Cleveland, spent two days helping Traci get packed, and now was riding shotgun during their short trip from Cleveland to Bridgeport.
While Shannon had been busy trying to make the sprawling loft into a home, they’d had almost two days of bonding and catching up. What if they’d already formed a bond that was going to be hard for Shannon to penetrate?
She could see that happening. Both Traci and Kimber were also from big cities, and with demanding jobs. Shannon, on the other hand, was simply a small-town dance instructor. Bridgeport, Ohio, was double the size of her hometown of Spartan, West Virginia. What if they thought she was too country?
What if they were both used to fancy things and exciting lives, while a trip to the supercenter was sometimes the highlight of Shannon’s day? As question after question rattled through her brain, she became even more agitated.
Frustrated with the direction of her thoughts, Shannon turned away from the window and looked hard at their living room. It currently consisted of a small, ancient fireplace that needed a good cleaning, a lumpy sofa, a rickety side table, and a lamp. Saying the space looked sparse was putting it mildly.
The open living room was connected to a galley-style kitchen that sported an oven and refrigerator almost as old as Kimber. On the other side was a bathroom that was bigger than any Shannon had ever had but now seemed woefully small for three women to share.
The only good thing about their third-floor loft was that there were three bedrooms. They were small and didn’t even have closets, but they did give each of them a small amount of privacy.
When she’d told the other girls about it all, Shannon had been so excited. But now? She was afraid that they’d see it for what it was—a desperate small-town girl’s attempt to make a vague dream into a home.
Even though she’d since tried to tone down their expectations, there was a good chance they’d be disappointed. Why, Kimber, especially, was probably used to fancy New York apartments and designer furniture.
Just as another wave of doubt crashed through her, a gleaming white Subaru Outback pulled into the parking lot on the side of the studio, accompanied by two sharp honks.
Feeling like her heart was in her throat, Shannon rushed down the stairs and opened the front door just as both women stepped out.
And . . . there were her sisters. Traci and Kimber. Traci, with her long brown hair clasped in a low ponytail and a far more athletic build than her own. Kimber, with her gorgeous cappuccino skin, statuesque height, perfect features, and large doe eyes. Both were so different from her. They were practically strangers who’d dropped everything in order to become family.
That was everything. Everything. Suddenly, nothing else mattered—not the shock of their circumstances, the anger at her parents, nor all the self-doubts and worries that she’d been holding close like long lost friends. All that did matter was that it had finally happened. She was seeing her sisters.
All that was why she did the only thing that she could—she promptly burst into tears. “I can hardly believe y’all are here,” she said as she flew into their arms.
“Of course we’re here,” Traci said as she wrapped an arm around her. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
The three of them clung together, holding each other close like lifelines in the middle of Kiowa Street. A light snow had started falling and it stuck to their eyelashes and sparkled against their dark hair.
Pulling back slightly to wipe her face, Shannon said, “You two are so tall! I feel like a shrimp next to y’all.”
Kimber chuckled. “You are just a tiny thing.”
“I think you’re cute,” Traci said. “And you have even a thicker accent in person than you did on the phone. I love it.”
That little bit of affirmation only made her start crying again. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
Kimber grinned as she wiped tears of her own. “Welcome to the club. Traci and I’ve been crying nonstop for the last two days,” she said as she leaned in and hugged Shannon once more.