“After my father died, I found a box of correspondence.

Two months ago, an archivist working on his estate found a second box.

Inside was your birth announcement, addressed to my office thirty-two years ago, never delivered.”

He laid a copy of the announcement on the table.

My full birth name was printed on pale cream paper.

I couldn’t look at it for long.

“Finding a photograph isn’t proof,” I said.

“No,” Warren agreed.