Callie
CallieI shift in my seat, conscious that everyone is looking at me like I"m some kind of messiah.
"But what does that mean?" My gaze flits between them all, trying to work out which of them is the most likely to explain it to me in words I can understand.
"What do you remember of your family, Callie?" Hank asks, pressing his hands together and leaning forward so his hands are resting on his knees. Suspicion is written all over his face, like he’s almost worked something out, but isn’t completely sure yet. It doesn’t take a genius to work out it’s something about me, either.
"I told you, next to nothing." There are a few flashes here and there of memories I can never hold onto, but nothing that makes me certain they"re real. The only lead I ever found was that my father had somet
