Selene’s POV
I have asked myself this question before.
Not out loud. Not to anyone who could answer it. But in the dark of my room on the nights when sleep would not come and my mind kept turning things over the way it does when it cannot leave something alone. I asked it to the ceiling. I asked it to the mountains through my small window.
Did someone put that word in his mouth.
I never let myself land on an answer because landing meant examining things I had packed away carefully and I needed them to stay packed. I needed the rejection to be his choice entirely, his arrogance entirely, his failure entirely, because that version was survivable. That version had an edge I could press against and feel something solid.
This version does not have that edge.
This version has a father.
Lu
