Lily’s father said, “You’re not going to tell anyone the truth, Olivia. You might have, once. But now? I don’t think so.”

Aunt Olivia replied, “Maybe you’re right. And maybe you should consider that I don’t have to tell anyone your oldest, darkest secret to ruin your life. All I have to do to destroy your world is tell Lily the truth about Sawyer.”

CHAPTER 28

In the grand scheme of things, the final recording wasn’t as shocking or significant as the ones that had come before. But somehow, hearing Aunt Olivia say my name—knowing that Lily had heard it—dulled the cacophony of other questions in my mind.

“I got mad at you,” Lily stated quietly. “Back when I found that old photo of your mama’s, and you told me that you thought my daddy might be yours.”

I felt like I’d swallowed sandpaper and was in danger of throwing it back up. “Lily . . .”

“And I got mad at you again when I saw you talking to that woman . . .” She swallowed and corrected herself: “Ana.”

One second I was standing by the bed, and the next, I was sitting beside her. I wanted to make this better for her. I wanted to fix it.

“And none of that,” Lily continued, her voice trembling, “none of it was your fault.”

I’d been waiting for the guillotine to fall for months. I’d set the ball rolling myself when I’d told her that Sterling Ames was not my father. If she hadn’t spent the past two weeks ignoring me, this moment—and the question she was on the verge of asking—might have come long before now.

I’ve been punishing myself. I’ve been letting her punish me—because of this.

“You heard Mama on that tape.” Lily swallowed. “She threatened to tell me the truth… about you.”

Aunt Olivia knows. I’d been so focused on what Lily had heard on the recordings that I hadn’t really processed the fact that her mother was the one who’d implied the truth. How long has she known that her husband slept with her sister?

How long has she known that he’s my father?

“You’re my sister,” Lily said quietly. “Aren’t you?”

Answering that question shouldn’t have been this hard. “I wanted to tell you.”

“My daddy . . .” Lily pressed her lips into a thin line, her brown eyes flashing. “My father—he slept with your mama when she was in high school.”

This time, all I could manage was yes.

“You knew.” Lily’s lips folded inward this time, like she was blotting her lipstick or biting the inside of her mouth. “That’s why you’ve been so weird the past couple of months.”