Twenty-Three
Monday morning comes, and I’m still riding the high of knowing I’m going to be an aunt. The fact that Mom is still in a potion-induced sleep is a bit of a damper, but I’m almost certain it won’t be long before she wakes. Couple that with the fact that I’m no longer furious about her lying to me—my anger is diminishing a little each day—and this looks like it could be a good Monday. Even an interrogation about my fugitive mother—which I’m pretty sure is coming—can’t ruin my day, thanks to one tiny and obvious fact I remembered yesterday about Guild interrogations.
An envelope appeared on our kitchen table last night with a note from the Guild informing me that training would return to normal today. After everything that’s happened since I left the Guild on Friday morning—trav
