The kitchen felt smaller suddenly, the walls pressing closer, the steam from three untouched teacups curling upward into silence.
"Grandma," Luna said carefully, "you're scaring me."
"Good." Rose's hands wrapped tight around her own cup, knuckles pale. "You should be a little scared. What I'm about to tell you isn't small, and once I say it, there's no putting it back."
Damian sat forward, elbows on his knees, his eyes moving between the two women with the sharp attentiveness he usually reserved for Council meetings. "Whatever it is, we're listening."
Rose drew a slow breath, the kind that seemed to cost her something.
"Your mother's name was Adaeva. Not the name on your birth certificate — that was changed, deliberately, before you were even a year old. Adaeva Hart wasn't born Hart
