With trembling hands, I handed my boyfriend Scott the DNA results, and asked him to read them. As I heard the words: ‘Jim Morgan has a 0.00% chance of being Shirley’s father,’ it felt as though my world was being torn apart. I drove straight to my mum Jean’s house to confront her. Her response was as cold as ice. If Jim wasn’t my dad, she said, then she wasn’t my mum either – and she’d take a DNA test to prove it.
Ever since I could remember, I’d felt like I didn’t fit in with my Irish-American family. My parents and seven siblings were all tall and fair, while I was small with brown
