"The boys?" Keely asked, following Maeve's finger to the next page of the album.

"And here they are again," Maeve said, pointing to another photo.

Keely glanced down at the picture, the color images washed out by time. This time Fiona and Seamus were surrounded by five young boys of various ages and sizes. "Are these your children?" Keely asked.

Maeve laughed as she pulled the photo from the album. "Then you don't recognize them? Why, these would be your brothers. Let me see if I remember correctly. The eldest was Conor. And then there was Brendan and Dylan, though I can't remember which of those two comes first. I suppose they're all grown and married now, with families of their own. And the twins. Now what were their names?" She turned the photo over. "I do believe your mother was pregnant." She pointed to the swell beneath Fiona's windblown dress. "That was probably you."

Keely quickly pushed to her feet. This couldn't be right. This wasn't her family. This wasn't her story. She didn't have brothers. She was an only child! "I really should go," she murmured. "I've already taken too much of your time."

"But you haven't touched your tea. Please stay and visit with me."

"Perhaps I'll come again tomorrow," Keely said, desperate to find a moment to herself, a moment to think about what Maeve had told her.

"Well, here, then. Take this with you." She handed Keely the photo, who reluctantly took it and tucked it in her purse before she hurried to the door.

"Tomorrow," she said as she stepped outside into the soft rain that had begun to fall.

By the time she reached the car, her mind was spinning with confusion. She wanted to believe Maeve Quinn was a crazy old lady who couldn't keep her facts straight. But every instinct told her that Maeve was in full possession of her faculties and she was the one who didn't have the story right.