Scarlet
Marie.
My eyes widened.
My father’s sister.
I stared at her, my mind struggling to process what that meant. A part of me wanted to believe her instantly, but after everything—after the secrecy, the hostility from the rest of them—trust didn’t come easy.
Beside me, Ronan remained tense, his posture rigid. His eyes stayed locked on Marie, watching for any sign of a trap.
I, however, took a cautious step forward.
“You’re his sister,” I said, my voice quieter than I intended.
Marie gave a small, sad smile. “I am so that makes me your aunt.”
The words should have felt like comfort. Instead, they sat heavy in my chest, a reminder of how much I didn’t know about my own father and my extended family.
I swallowed. “You’re his sister, why are you still here? Why didn’t you leave wi
