Forty-Two
Victoria Larkenwood. Violet and Ryn’s daughter.
I have to repeat the words several times in my head before they can begin making even the tiniest bit of sense. Calla is saying something, and I’m staring dumbly at her, and still the words are trying to sink their way into my brain.
Victoria Larkenwood. Violet and Ryn’s daughter.
I have parents. I have a brother. I have an aunt who’s once again hugging me tightly. And the weirdest part is that I’ve met them all already. I’ve talked with them, shared meals with them, tried to figure out my past with them, and not once did I ever imagine I might belong to them. I’m probably supposed to be happy. Overjoyed. But I’m too stunned to feel much of anything.
Except … sick?
I pull away from Calla and press one hand against my stomach.
