“Hey,” Ana said, looking directly at me for the first time since she’d appeared in the doorway. “Ease up. We’re all worried about Lily.”

“You don’t even know Lily,” I snapped. “And clearly, she isn’t much of a priority to either one of you.”

“Sawyer,” Uncle J.D. said lowly. “Please.”

“Please what?” I retorted. “Please don’t make a scene?”

Before he could reply, a doctor appeared and pulled him aside, and the two of them began talking in muted tones. I wanted to hear what they were saying, but I couldn’t quite convince my body to turn my back on the woman opposite me.

The woman who was having some kind of affair with my aunt’s husband. The other participant in the pregnancy pact. A woman Campbell and I hadn’t been able to find a trace of.

“Everything is going to be fine,” she told me.

That snapped me out of it. “You don’t get to tell me that things are going to be fine,” I said, enunciating every word. “And you don’t get to ‘worry’ about Lily. You’re banging her father, who, as goes without saying, is a fetid piece of rotting—”

“I get it,” Ana interjected softly. She tucked her blond hair behind her ears, her dark brown eyes oozing understanding. “I do, honey, and I’m leaving. I just… I needed to make sure y’all got here okay.”

I should have let her go. I should have told her to get the hell away from me. But some ghosts can’t be banished that easily, and my mom’s past—my past—had been haunting me for months now. Campbell’s statement in the waiting room, her assertion that we should ask Ana about the baby, wouldn’t be banished.

Somehow, what ended up coming out of my mouth next was: “I know who you are. You’re Ana Sofía Gutierrez.”

If she was surprised that I knew her full name, she didn’t show it. “These days, I go by Olsson—my mother’s maiden name.”

I wondered how long she’d gone by a different name. I wondered if she’d made herself difficult to find on purpose.

“I’m Sawyer,” I told her. “Ellie’s Sawyer.”

For a moment, something like nostalgia crossed Ana’s features. “Ellie always said that’s what she was going to name you, even if you ended up being a boy.”

I breathed in and breathed out and then spoke again. “You always imagined having girls,” I said, the words coming out hoarse.

Emotion flickered over her features, but she washed her face clear of it a moment later.

“I know about the pact.” I waited for a response, but the only thing I got in return for the statement was silence. “Where have you been, all of these years?” I asked. “What are you doing here? Why would you sleep with him?”