I could only gape at him. His confession clung to the air like a cold moist fog and it settled on me uncomfortably. A mark. A soul bite. My mother’s request. Me. The narrative made no sense the minute I'd brought myself into the mix.
There was no way this was about me. Or so I wanted to believe but I couldn’t deny the oddities in my upbringing and the recent events occurring in my life so far.
“Sit down,” Ethan said softly, gesturing to the bed. I followed through, watching him closely. His expression looked haunted in a way I couldn’t understand. “You need to hear this properly.”
My skepticism lingered yet I moved and sat, locking my hands in my lap. He remained standing for a moment, as though gathering the courage to continue.
“About twelve years ago, your mother brought you to me.”
