The morning thunder startled Jenna Roland awake.

She blinked groggily as lightning flashed outside her window.

Grabbing her phone, she saw it was only nine.

Rolling over to sleep again, raindrops began hammering against the glass.

The storm intensified, sounding like it might shatter the panes.

With a sigh, Jenna got up and walked to the window.

Raindrops the size of peas formed silver streaks, turning the streets into shallow rivers.

Her afternoon trip to the business bureau would have to wait.

While preparing lunch after washing up, her phone rang.

The caller ID showed Attorney Hugo Valence.

"Attorney Valence."

"I'm at the business bureau. Your father's name? I'll check for you."

Jenna paused, surprised by his initiative.

"Victor Roland."

Hanging up, she tied on an apron and started cooking.

By eleven sharp, three dishes and soup were ready on the table.

The midday news played on TV.

Jenna glanced outside where the downpour showed no signs of stopping.

She debated calling Ethan Roscente.

Her phone vibrated—Grandma Blanche was calling.

"Good afternoon, Grandma."

"Have you eaten, Jenna?"

"Just finished cooking. Waiting for Mr. Roscente." Her voice softened. "Would you like to join us?"

"We've already eaten." The elderly woman's tone shifted. "How are things with Ethan?"

Jenna's ears warmed. "Quite well."

"Just 'quite well'?" The probing question carried weight.

"Mr. Roscente has helped me tremendously." She pressed her lips briefly. "When my brother's surgery funds fell short, his friend donated a million."

"Oh? Which friend?"

"Justin Kemnis. He works at the Red Cross."

Silence stretched for several seconds.

Grandma Blanche frowned deeply at her husband.

Justin Kemnis?

She distinctly remembered that young man being in import-export.