My father answered the door in his bathrobe, blinking sleep from his eyes. When he saw us standing on his porch at two in the morning, me still wearing Rhett's t-shirt with a jacket thrown over it, his face went pale.

"Sienna? What's wrong? Is the baby—"

"You knew." My voice came out flat, cold. I held up the envelope, my hand shaking. "You knew everything, and you never told me."

His face crumpled. He didn't ask what I was talking about. He didn't pretend not to understand. He just ...