"Stepsister," Trish emphasized, taking another careful step forward. "Not blood. We're not related, Prue. My mother married his father when I was a baby. That doesn't make us siblings. That just makes us two people who grew up in the same house and fell in love." Her voice dropped, went soft and almost tender. "You can't help who you fall in love with. Surely you understand that. You fell for Nate the moment you saw him, didn't you? On that tarmac in Port Moresby?"

How did Trish know that? Had ...