I sank down a little bit in the water, as to not get noticed. No need to be arrested for skinny dipping. Again. I swam towards the shore until I got close enough to see who was on the shore, but not close enough to be spotted. A car suddenly parked right near shore, and Henry got out with a plastic bag in his hands. They were full of clothes. He set them down underneath the bridge and got back in the car.

I blinked in confusion, approaching the bag and drying myself off with the provided towel. It was nice and warm. I got into the clothes that he left me: undergarments, a pair of sweatpants, a long sleeved tee shirt, and a hoodie. I also gratefully put on the socks he gave me. There weren't any shoes, so I walked to the sidewalk and started walking around again. I saw the car Henry came in, and Henry jumped out and ran up to me.

"Rachel?!"

"Hi? Who are you?" I asked, raising an eyebrow curiously, even though I already knew the answer.

"Henry Morgan, autopsy doctor, and much much more. Listen, I know you're lying about not knowing who I am. I don't know if you know this or not, but you have a condition."

"What kind of condition?" I asked hunting him.

"Immortality. I know you have it because I watched you die in my arms, and then you show up here."

I nodded. "Interesting. How would you know I would show up here?"

"Because I have the same condition."

I blinked. That's impossible.

"What?"

"I know it seems weird, but it's true! I've lived for over 200 years! Please, Rachel, you have to believe me."

I paused for a second. "140."

Henry's eyes widened. "About sixty years younger than me."

"Yes... And...?"

Henry stared at my knees, as if lost in a memory. "Henry?" I said, waving my hand in front of his face. He snapped back to reality with a somewhat pained and horrified expression.

"Rachel, I think I might be your father."

I looked down at the ground with a cold, hard glare. "Mom never told me who my father was."

"Not surprising. I never told her my name."

I slapped him. He doubled over, lightly holding his face. "WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!"

"Why in the world would you not tell her? That's my mother you're talking about!"

"She never asked! I didn't ask for her's either; it was a one night stand, as you kids call it these days."

I pursed my lips. "Oh. Sorry for slapping you then."

"It's fine. I deserved it. I cheated on my wife that night. I let everyone down. I deserve a slap. Probably much more."

"Nah, I'll pay you back later. How are you going to explain this to your copper friend?"

Henry paused. "Oh! Detective Martinez? Well, I can just say the truth: you're my daughter."

"Of course you're going to have to explain my whole getting shot thing."

"A makeover. You're going to dye your hair brown like mine and get a British accent."

I looked down at my blonde hair. "No problem," I said in my original British accent. "I'm a natural brunette anyways."