Of course her mother had lied. Her biological father was alive and, according to the occupation field, gainfully employed at . . . Wait. Aston University. She swiped down, stopping at a series of photos on the following pages. One was a close-up, the man’s face, his easy smile captured perfectly in the frame. Elora’s heart dropped. She knew that face. She’d seen him walking around Aston’s campus. He was the dean of students. Henry Neilson.
