For a disappointed couple, the worst-best thing that can happen is for a beautiful child to come into their lives, thinking he's theirs—and for them to be given every opportunity to keep him.
He appeared at the door in the Seattle rain: age ten, and dripping. He called her "Mom." The officer who brought him thought he was hers and left him there. He called Craig "Dad." He knew where the bathroom was, knew where to find a glass, knew the dog's name. The school said they were his parents. The state's records agreed. He even looked familiar.
The problem, of course, was that they'd never had a child. Yet somehow Zechariah Fleming not only fit in, but wore the very name they had chosen for the son they never had.
No one came looking for him. What could the Flemings do? They did the worst-best thing possible: they kept him. Just for a little while, long enough to find his family—long enough, incidentally, to fall in love with him.
He resurfaced past pains. His unreserved wonder at his new life (a bed, even going outside!) introduced new joys. He was happy. But something was wrong: he had been sent to them from a mysterious past, but he had no way to say by whom. Meanwhile, someone watched from the shadows, working out his own agenda as Kara and Craig searched for a way to care for Zach without becoming a family.
Then, when all the signs converged to proclaim he really was theirs, a new struggle ensued: a race to find his true origins before whoever sent him returned to take him—their son—away.
