"So how did you find me?” Dad says. “My name isn’t uncommon.”
Willow brightens. "Oh, it took ages, and I had to go through so much paperwork, which is really not my thing.” She starts listing things on her fingers. "Mom's journal from that summer. Electoral records. A private investigator. Three wrong James Callahans who I went and met personally.”
“You did?” Mayhem said skeptically. “You talked to them?”
“Yes.” Willow beams. “They were very nice, all of them. A dentist, a retired science teacher, and one delightful farmer in Saskatchewan who insisted on showing me his alpacas."
As is quickly becoming the norm with Willow, nobody quite knows how to respond.
"They were lovely," she adds. “The alpacas, I mean, not the dentist and teacher and farmer.”
Mayhem blinks. "You met alpacas on
