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I nodded, practically vibrating with the desire to hear her answer.

“It’s not really funny like yours. Mine’s my worst shame. I have nightmares about it,” she sighed softly.

I looked down at her, purposefully letting her see my disappointment, and then nearly laughed when she sighed so exaggeratingly.

But what I expected to be funny, was anything but.

I could’ve guessed just about anything would’ve come out of her mouth than what did.

“I’m not my father’s kid,” she whispered darkly.

My mouth dropped open.

“And that’s a shame to you…how?” I wondered.

She bit her lip.

“If I tell you this…you have to promise not to tell anyone, ever,” she ordered fiercely. “You cannot ever tell. If you tell, I’ll probably be disowned by my mother, and I love her so much that I’d probably kill myself.”

I blinked.

“If it’s that big of a deal…” I started. “Then I don’t want to know.”

She waved me off.

“Downy’s father died before I was born…” she started.

I nodded.

I’d heard that in our previous talks.

“Okay,” I circled my finger for her to continue.

She bit her lip.

Then she opened her mouth and said words that I would’ve never expected to come out of her mouth.

“I’m not Downy’s half-sister. I’m his full sister,” she blurted.

I blinked.

“Ummm,” I asked in confusion. “How?”

She got up and ran to her bedroom, then came back a couple minutes later with some documentation in her hands.

“Out of spite, one day when I was eighteen or nineteen,” she started. “I got really mad at Downy, and I was going to prove to him once and for all that we weren’t related.”

I nodded.

“Don’t ask why, I was a kid,” she ordered.

I held up two fingers in a scout’s honor.

She gave me a dirty look that clearly told me she’d fuck me up if I ever thought about telling.

“So I steal some of his hair, and then sent some of my hair in, to have it analyzed.” She handed me the paperwork.

“What’s this?” I asked, looking at the lines, dashes, and percentages.