Matilde is immediately at my side, gasping and rapidly asking me questions in Portuguese – questions I don’t understand or don’t have time to process as my whole body shakes with the realization.
That I’m…
I’m…
That I apparently have been the entire time I’ve been here, and that I have just been to stupid to realize it. That even Matilde realized it, and thought that I knew, and assumed that Frankie was the father and that we’d just been…I don’t know, figuring out our relationship!?
But Frankie is…
I groan, the tears coming faster now as all of the details flood into my mind – the only possible answer to the question of how this happened.
That history has somehow darkly repeated itself, and that I am now in the same place Christian’s mother was more than two decades ago when she fle
