Calla's Perspective
That evening, I sat in our familiar kitchen with Mom and Dad, trying to find the words to begin the most difficult conversation of my life. The phone call from Anya had come at 6:30 PM, confirming they would arrive in half an hour, and now I needed to prepare my parents for what was coming. In the garden two warriors were hidden from view at Anya and Alric's insistence.
"Actually," I said, my voice catching slightly, "I need to talk to both of you. And... some people are coming over soon to help explain some things."
Dad immediately set down his fork, his paternal radar pinging. "What kind of things? Are you in trouble?"
"Not trouble exactly," I said, sitting down heavily at the kitchen table. "But there are things about me—about who I am—that I haven't been able
