Bella:
When classes ended on Monday, I rushed down to my mother’s office. As I reached for the handle of the door, I heard her speaking to someone.
“It was nice having you, Mr. Stormclaw. I hope we can work something out for the peaceful coexistence of our children,” she said. I contemplated turning away, but the door swung open, and I found myself face-to-face with a middle-aged man with brown hair. He looked like Fae if she had stronger facial features.
“Good day, sir,” I greeted, lifting the tip of my skirt with a little genuflect.
“This is my daughter,” my mother said, and the man gave me what appeared to be a warm smile. Knowing he was Fae’s father made it difficult for me to receive it as genuine.
Her face was embedded in his, and the feeling of always wanting to punch her remai
