She whispered:
“Your father’s.”
I looked at the signature.
It wasn’t my father’s.
It was Trevor’s.
I knew Trevor’s handwriting.
I had seen it thousands of times.
I suddenly realized the horrifying truth.
Someone had forged my father’s signature.
I called Trevor.
He answered on the first ring.
“Where are you?”
“Where are you?”
“Emily—”
“Tell me the truth.”
Silence.
“Are you Elena?”
Another silence.
Then he whispered:
“Yes.”
My entire body went numb.
“What?”
“I’m Elena.”
I couldn’t speak.
He continued.
“I never died.”
“Why did Paisley say you were inside Rosalyn?”
“Because she saw me.”
“You were inside her?”
“No.”
“Then what did she see?”
Trevor began crying.
“An ultrasound.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Rosalyn is pregnant.”
My mouth went dry.
“With whose baby?”
Trevor didn’t answer.
“Trevor.”
He whispered:
“Mine.”
Everything stopped.
The pool.
The birthday.
