“True.” She touched his cheek. “But, Devin, even most English people don't have trouble with the mixing of Europeans. I'm Indian. That's considered lesser, and impure.”
“Do you think so?” he asked.
She shook her head. “How can I? Apart from Mother, the only people who cared for me growing up were Indians. They have a beautiful, rich culture, a culture that is partly mine. I'm proud of it, even if I can't talk about it to many people. Even here, mixing is frowned on, despite that it happens often enough. I think it's the fact that my mother bedded an Indian, rather than the other way around, that sticks in people's craw.”
Devin shrugged. “Humans can be stupid and inconsistent. Who knows why? Even if what your mother did was wrong, I don't see how that can be your fault.”
“Mother wasn't
