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Jensen sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. Then he lowered himself into the chair beside my bed and leaned forward. “You can’t trust her,” he said, voice barely above a murmur.
“Huh? Who?”
He lifted his palm to signal for me to speak in a softer voice. “Zara,” he whispered. “You can’t trust her. You can’t trust anyone. Except me.”
My brows dipped in a frown. “What do you mean?”
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. “Here,” he said, giving me a hard look. “Read this.”
Amerie
I tentatively took Jensen’s phone, brows furrowed with confusion. “What am I looking at?” I asked.
“It’s an email I forwarded to myself from your account last night,” he said. “Just read it.”
I lowered my gaze to the text on the screen, nervously chewing on the inside of my cheek.
Re. Customer Satisfaction Survey
Dear Ms. Warnock,
My name is Elle Rogers, and I am a customer service representative at Origins Personal Genomics. I wanted to reach out about the survey you completed recently.
It is absolutely critical that our consumers receive high quality genetic data they can trust, and we work extensively with our partnered lab to ensure that the results we return are accurate.
I apologize for the negative experience you had, but I wanted to assure you that there was no mistake with your data. Your profile returned a familial match with Skye Munroe’s Ancestry profile, and I can confirm that it is indeed a maternal link.
Here at Origins, we understand that our DNA Relatives program can lead to the discovery of some unexpected relationships. While not common, these discoveries can affect you and your family. I would like to apologize again for any discomfort or distress you have experienced since you received your results.
If there is anything I can help you with, please do not hesitate to reply to this email. Alternatively, you can call the tollfree number at the bottom of the page.
Kind regards,
Elle Rogers
Jensen stared at me as I read—and re-read—the email. “Do you remember when we did those DNA tests for the school paper?” he asked.
I nodded, heart pounding. “Ali and Zara told me there was an error with the company’s data-matching, or something like that. They sent out a generic customer satisfaction survey a few weeks ago and I gave them a negative review in my feedback. I totally forgot about it until now.”
“Well, your review made them take a closer look at your profile, and that—” Jensen paused and dipped his chin toward the phone. “Is the result.”
My mouth had gone bone-dry again. “So… Zara isn’t my mother?” I said, voice scarcely above a whisper.
“No. And here’s the thing, Amerie. I never thought she was your mother.”
I stared at him, eyes widening. “What?”
Jensen leaned forward. “I always thought she was your stepmother,” he said in a low voice. “Before you moved here, Piper told everyone at school that her long-lost half-sister was moving to town, but she didn’t elaborate on the story. So I, and everyone else, assumed that Ali had an affair years ago and left some other woman with a secret kid. You.”
I rubbed my temples, mind mired in confusion. “I don’t understand.”
“What I’m saying is, if you ever directly told me that you thought Zara was your biological mother, I would’ve known something was wrong,” Jensen went on, forehead creasing. “She’s always lived here in Vanderwild Bay, and she’s been married to Ali for over twenty years. People would’ve noticed and gossiped for years if she got pregnant and had a kid with another man a year before Piper was born. But that never happened. So when you arrived in town, everyone just assumed that Ali was your dad and Zara was your stepmom.”
“I still don’t understand,” I murmured, wincing as my head throbbed. I felt like I was trapped in a fever dream. “You know that Ali’s not my father. I told you about my dad when I told you about that fucked-up contract he signed. Remember?”
Jensen nodded. “Yes. But when you told me about that, it was so rushed and emotional. I just assumed you were talking about one of your foster fathers, seeing as you were in the system for so long. I didn’t realize you meant your biological father. I’m sorry.”
“Right,” I muttered, mind still spinning with confusion.
