The call came in at 12:47 AM.
Keith picked up instantly, already expecting it. Wynter, curled on the couch beside him with a blanket pulled up to her chin, didn't even flinch. She stared blankly ahead, hands unconsciously resting on the gentle curve of her stomach.
"Welp. I have very bad news to tell. She's not real," Einz said without preamble. His voice was tired—stripped of its usual cheek. "Elle Escalante's identity is fake."
The silence that followed was heavy—dense with implications neither of them wanted to voice.
Wynter's lips parted, her brows slowly drawing together. "What… what do you mean her identity's fake?"
Einz cleared his throat from the other end of the line, clearly uncomfortable. "No birth record. No legal identification. Every trace of Elle Escalante begins eight years ago—and even that's sketchy. It's all fabricated. Her school records, employment history, residency permits... they're all forged. Whoever Elle is, she's not Escalante for sure. Not legally."
