My Greek family has dark hair, but my granddaughter Leni, born to my son Stavros and his wife Priya, has blond curls and blue eyes. Curious about her unique traits, I asked them, but they brushed me off. When Leni, 5, asked why her hair differed, I bought a DNA test, informing Priya. The results shocked me: no Greek or Indian ancestry, just European. Stavros admitted Leni was conceived via IVF with a donor egg due to Priya’s ovarian failure, but

the clinic mismatched the donor. I later got a message from Erin, whose sister Madison, the egg donor, found Leni through her own DNA test. Tensions rose; Priya felt I’d overstepped, and I didn’t see Leni for months. One day, Leni arrived with a note from Priya: “Just love her.” We spent a joyful weekend together. Madison sent a letter for Leni, which I kept. Slowly, Priya and I reconciled, agreeing love defines family. We met Madison and Erin at a park, watching Leni play, unaware of their connection. Love, not biology, binds us, and Leni thrives in our honest, messy family.