“Yes,” I said quietly. “Isla is yours.”
Trevor’s face went completely still. Danielle stepped away from him as if even she had not known. I reminded Trevor that I had shown him the ultrasound five years earlier and told him exactly what he had said: I don’t want anything that ties me to you. He tried to claim he had been angry and confused, but five years of silence were harder to explain away. He had known I was pregnant. He simply never bothered to learn whether his daughter had been born healthy, what I named her, or who stayed awake beside her hospital bed when she got sick.
...
