The first words he had ever spoken to me.
“You look exactly like her.”
At the time, I had assumed he meant my mother.
Now I wasn’t sure.
I looked at him.
“Trevor.”
“Yes?”
“Who is she?”
He said nothing.
“Who did I look like?”
His face collapsed.
And for the first time since I had known him, my husband looked genuinely terrified of me.
He whispered:
“Your sister.”
I stopped breathing.
“I don’t have a sister.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you say that?”
“Because you don’t remember her.”
I stepped backward.
“What?”
Trevor closed his eyes.
“I was hoping you’d never find out.”
The next morning, my father was missing.
His car was abandoned near the old family house.
Police searched the property.
Nothing.
Rosalyn wouldn’t answer her phone.
Trevor insisted he wasn’t involved.
I didn’t know what to believe.
