Prologue

My entire life I'd known that my family wasn't really mine.

I knew, even as a little girl, that the man that would frequently visit me at my window was my real father. Not the man that slept just down the hall.

I never saw his face clearly in the dark since my night vision did not develop entirely until after he stopped coming to see me. I always knew, however, and without him even telling me.

I always wondered why my mother never came to visit me, but my father did.

On the day I turned eighteen, I decided it was time to solve the mystery of my true heritage.