Tears filled her eyes, and she looked down, away from the camera. There was much more to this story, but it wasn’t relevant to verifying her identity, and it was up to Christa to decide if she wanted to tell me. I waited, sipping my wine while she composed herself.
She cleared her throat and shook her head. “Anyway, he gave me this whole speech about banging as many chicks as possible, which I found completely appalling. I told him that I loved you, and he said that you’d be ashamed to see me pretending to be a girl.”
My heart broke for the boy I thought she’d been and the woman she’d become. “I’m not ashamed, Christa. I’m confused and incredibly angry, but I’m not ashamed. For you or for me. Neither of us asked for this.”
“I know. But he went on and on about what a small town we lived
