“Then what happened?”
Annie looked at her hands.
“Then I found the box. In the bag. Under the sweater.” She touched the cardigan. “I opened it in the bathroom. And I read the note.”
She stopped. Teresa squeezed her hand.
“Tell her, baby,” Teresa said. “It’s okay.”
Annie tomó un respiro.
“Volví a la sala”, dijo, “y le tiré la caja”.
No me he movido. Estaba conteniendo la respiración.
—No lo sabía —dijo Annie, y ahora estaba llorando mucho. “Lo juro. No sabía que el tío Mike era mi padre. Mi mamá nunca me lo dijo. Pensé que mi padre era un tipo que se fue antes de que yo naciera. Eso es lo que siempre decía”.
Teresa closed her eyes.
“So I read that note,” Annie said, “and I thought Lily was making it up. I thought it was some kind of joke. Like, a really mean joke. Like, rich girl makes the poor girl a dress and then pretends to be her sister so everybody can laugh.”
