her walker and shuffling over to the foot of her bed to the spot Josie had just vacated. She sat down and patted the bed. “Please, Josie. Come sit.”
Reluctantly, Josie lowered herself onto the bed. Their shoulders brushed against one another. Lisette found Josie’s hand and took it, squeezing tightly. “There’s something I need to tell you, dear.”
Josie’s heart began to thunder, the roar in her ears growing more deafening by the second. Why did she feel afraid? What could Lisette possibly have to tell her that had to do with Sawyer Hayes? If he was conning her or pursuing her, Josie could still stop it. She was a police officer. She’d come after him with the full weight of her department.
Lisette’s bony fingers tightened around Josie’s hand until it hurt. Lisette gave news the same way that Josie did—swiftly and without qualifiers. Josie had always thought of it as ripping off the Band-Aid. The sooner you got it over with, the sooner the person could process what they were about to learn.
Lisette said, “Sawyer is my grandson.”
A perfect silence fell over the room. Everything became so still that even the dust motes floating in the shaft of light coming through the window seemed to freeze. The bustling noises of the rest of the facility outside of Lisette’s door receded into nothingness. Surely, Josie had heard her wrong.
“What did you say, Gram?”
Lisette took a deep breath. On the exhale, she repeated, “Sawyer is my grandson.”
Josie started counting off seconds in her head, trying to maintain her composure. He was running a con. That son of a bitch. One, two, three. She sprung up from her seat, tearing her hand out of Lisette’s grasp, pacing frenetically in the tiny room. “Gram, I don’t know what he told you, but he obviously thinks he can get something out of you. Some grand inheritance or something. This is a con. He’s a con artist. I knew there was something I didn’t like about this guy. Listen to me, I want you to stop all contact with him until I sort this out. I’ll talk to the front desk and tell them he’s not to come in here any longer.”
“Josie,” Lisette said. “Sawyer is my grandson.”
Josie pointed to her own chest. “I’m your grandchild. Me. Just me. Sawyer Hayes is a complete stranger.”
Lisette stood, pushing her walker out of the way. Using the bed to hold onto, she made her way to her nightstand and opened the drawer. She pulled out a sheaf of papers and brought them to Josie. “This is real, Josie.”
Trying to calm the tsunami of anxiety about to overtake her, Josie took the pages and studied them. She was looking at a DNA report of some kind. It was from one of those sites where you sent in your DNA sample via saliva, and they analyzed your ancestral origins and also, if you chose to participate, they would put you into a database with other people and match you with family members you might not know you had. According to the report, Sawyer Hayes shared twenty point six percent DNA amounting to thirty-eight segments with Lisette Matson. Life Lineage predicts that Lisette Matson is your grandmother, concluded the report.
Josie’s hands shook. She placed the report onto the bed. “When did you do this? When did you submit your DNA? Who—who helped you? Was it him?”
Lisette reached for Josie’s arm, but Josie tore it away. “It was several weeks ago, dear and yes, Sawyer helped me. He came to me a couple of months ago—”
“So he lied the other day when he said that he ran into you here!” Josie said, realizing quickly that her voice had risen to a shout.
“This isn’t real,” Josie said, pointing to the report. “This is a con. He did this to trick you. I don’t know what he wants or what he thinks he’s going to get from you but it’s a lie. All of it is a lie. Gram, you’re vulnerable.”
At this, Lisette wobbled and grabbed her walker to steady herself. “Don’t talk to me like that, young lady. I’m not some old, doddering fool. I’ve still got my mind. I think I can figure out what’s real and what’s not.” She pointed to the pages. “This is real. I took the test. I had one of the nurses here help me log into the site myself so I could make sure he wouldn’t bring me