CLARA BESS wasn't at all prepared for what she unearthed at the bottom of her mother's keepsake box. Not in with legal papers, not in her own baby book, not in the safe even. On the day of her 50th birthday, Clara Bess Caldwell was not with her family basking in the joy of a blissful Christmas Day winding down. She was not enjoying eggnog or coffee by a fireplace, nor was she checking a goose roasting in the oven. Clara Bess was at her mother's house, going through her personal effects, something she had put off for several weeks. Her children, her husband, her siblings, had all urged her to wait another day. To not put herself through this ordeal on Christmas Day. "But it was her birthday, too." Clara Bess reminded them. Clara Bess read, with shock and no small degree of confusion, the line on her birth certificate where her mother's name should be. It did not read Lily Isabella Sawyer. Clara Bess rode waves of confusion for several weeks, unsure what to make of the erroneous information. Afraid it could be true, she couldn't bring herself to go to the courthouse, or the hospital, to have it corrected. Little things pinged in her memory, things that pointed to the unbelievable possibility. Clara Bess was adopted. Where, then, were the adoption papers?