We went back inside together as the blue twilight settled over the Bellevue hills.

Raymond led the way down the wide carpeted staircase and back into the warm light of the estate library.

Brandon was still sitting at the long oak table, watching the doorway as we came in.

The yellowed foster documents and the state birth registry were still spread across the dark wood next to the open metal record box.

Brandon stood up slowly as Raymond stepped into the room, his hands resting flat against his jeans.

Raymond walked over to the table, leaned his cane against the edge of the leather sofa, and looked at his son across the narrow space between them.