The hidden room.
The photographs.
My stepmother.
My husband.
My father.
It all collapsed into one impossible truth.
Trevor was not my husband.
He was Elena.
My missing sister.
And Rosalyn was carrying his child.
But Elena wasn’t a man.
Trevor’s voice trembled.
“I’m sorry.”
I couldn’t process it.
“Why did you marry me?”
“Because I needed to find you.”
“Why?”
“To tell you the truth.”
“You could have told me!”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“The first time we met.”
“You said I looked like someone.”
“I said you looked like me.”
I remembered.
“You knew who I was.”
“Yes.”
“Then why?”
“Because your father had spent my entire life convincing me that I was dangerous.”
“What?”
“He told me I caused Elena’s death.”
I stared into nothing.
Trevor continued.
“When I discovered the truth, I changed my identity.”
“You became Trevor.”
“Yes.”
“You married me.”
