“Yes, I must.” The crow flapped inside and made himself comfortable on a curtain rod.
When they went to their room, the crow flapping after them, Wyre Eumenides was despondent. “She’s never loved our father.”
“She loves him,” Amarantia said as she made a nest out of a sweater atop her bureau. “Just in her way.”
Wyre Eumenides got into bed and pulled up the covers.
“Oh, no you don’t,” Amarantia said, getting into bed beside her. “Tell all.”
“Mother hates Levi and she doesn’t even know him. I think she hates me, too.”
“We don’t have to listen to her,” Amarantia said. “Or be like her. She definitely would have chosen caution.”
Wyre Eumenides closed her eyes. “I won’t listen to her.”
They lay there side by side, defiant, convinced that, if there were curses, then there must also be cur
