“I thought if I found my father, then perhaps . . . I could somehow fit in, find a place.”
Beryl’s face softened. There was a time when she’d thought like that.
“I wouldn’t worry; fathers aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.” She looked at Mandy, who seemed so sad . . . “Maybe Archie can help. He’s in touch with Identities all over the world.”
Mandy’s face burned. She had said too much. “Why don’t I get the coffee this time,” she nodded to a nearby burger van. “The usual?”
---
Hilda, unaware of a dog sniffing at her rear, watched Mandy stand and head toward her.
She pressed her back against the tree.
Mandy strode by.
Hilda caught her breath.
Mandy’s scent lingered.
Hilda watched Mandy, the goddess, stride self-assuredly across the park.
She was stunning, a pure powerhouse.
Hild
