That night I lay in my childhood bed, staring at the ceiling as I’ve done so many nights before.
My mom and the baby are sleeping peacefully. I didn’t want to disturb them too much, as she looked completely exhausted. “It’s much easier to recover from when you’re divine,” she’d joked. So I just went in long enough to say hello, then let them have some peace and quiet.
Sylvia is in the guest room down the hall, and I find myself wondering if Eric’s theory could be right. And if it is… what is she?
As I slowly fade off to sleep, a passing thought appears in my mind. I haven’t even talked to my parents about my whole purpose for coming home. Lamia. Oh well, I’ll deal with it tomorrow.
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Once again I find myself in the dark, candle-lit room, unable to formulate coherent wo
