She hesitates, then leans against Les, needing the warmth and solidity of him right now, and it makes it a little easier to say what she needs to say when she doesn't have to look at him. Resting against his side, she chews her lower lip briefly, then shakes her head. "No, I haven't seen her or had any contact with her since I was three. For awhile she had supervised visits, but she just stopped coming and I've never wanted to find her. There was several address labels under the one for my current address, which means she's been tracking me."

And she doesn't know why. That's the thing that's bothering her even more than knowing she has family in this town. She doesn't know why her mother would have cared enough to track her. She'd given up her rights to her children in favour of drugs, so why would she try so hard to keep track of the daughter she'd given away?

"She'd been tracking my apparent father, too," she says slowly. "I have no memories of him, he left when I was only a baby, the foster home told me he was dead and I had no reason not to believe them. But he wasn't. He's not. He's... gotten around."