There were just not enough seats for all of this in this room, two couches that could fit three people comfortably and two lounge chairs. Grandpa was already occupying one of the leather chairs while Mom, Dad, and Dallin took one of the couches. I took the center of the second couch, and Mila comfortably snuggled next to me.

I looked up to see Sylvia and Cerila looking at each other in silence. The awkward and somewhat tense atmosphere ramped up as Sylvia took a direct step in front of Cerila and sat on the couch next to me. Cerila raised an eyebrow at me, and her face told me that action peeved her, but Sylvia merely crossed her legs and arms with a grunt.

Padraic smacked his forehead and let out a long-winded groan. He grabbed Dallin from underneath the arms, eliciting a giggle from him, and placed him on Mom’s lap. Seeing Dallin laugh like that brought a smile to my face. I was worried that he might be apprehensive, but if I was being honest, he seemed to be the least worried person here.

Bowen left us some water, and with that, everyone was seated. There were a few awkward moments between us before I cleared my throat and rolled my shoulders. Finally, I let out a deep breath and nodded my head.

I looked at Padraic. “I’ll start. Would you mind translating everything to Cerila? I don’t want her to miss anything because I’m a little behind on her version of Sign Language.”

Padraic gave me a serious nod while cracking his fingers and running them through his beard. I looked at my parents and Grandpa, and they all gave me nods of silent approval.

“Then…I should probably start from the beginning.”

I launched into the long-winded recount of my life, well, the last seven years. And I really did start from the beginning. Even though Mila and Dallin were present, I figured skirting around the darker parts would only be a disservice. I, of course, didn’t go into great detail about certain aspects for obvious reasons, but I didn’t need to. The adults understood these things without me having to say all of it.

Of course, that didn’t stop their reactions. Every time I mentioned something even halfway bad, everyone winced. I barely managed three sentences before tears flowed from Mom’s eyes, and it wasn’t long before Dad joined her. Tears rolled down Cerila’s face as she stared off into the distance, watching Padraic sign dejectedly out of the corner of her eye. Grandpa simply closed his eyes and listened to my words.

I had to stop multiple times in my explanation to give Mom and Dad time to process what I was telling them. There were also various instances of Mom breaking down entirely and wailing, telling me that she was sorry for letting me get captured. I had to assuage her frequently and remind her this wasn’t her or Dad’s fault. However, my words fell on deaf and emotionally charged ears.

Things like the Wyrm attack and slugging through the dungeon were also points of…sorrow. My entire involvement with the Chapter of Despair made everyone uncomfortable. Even Grandpa reacted somewhat to hearing that name. It appeared that even he was aware of what they were capable of.

I also got a quick explanation of what happened during my kidnapping. The Chapter of Despair spent a significant amount of time putting its plot into action. They most likely had insider information.

The chapter used the bandit attacks in the region to misdirect the rangers and focus them in a specific area. From there, they sent troops into Owlkirk to blend in and wait for a signal. The chapter began attacking and killing patrolling ranger squads indiscriminately, and from there, the agents inside the village began attacking. They burned down homes and slaughtered civilians. It was pure chaos. And apparently, this was normal for the Chapter of Despair. Grandpa confirmed that this was a way for them to test Syn’nari’s capabilities. While also stealing slaves to be sold on the market and causing tension in the country.

No wonder they couldn’t come to find Cerila and me immediately.

I pushed those thoughts away for now. What was done was done, and there was nothing that could be changed about the past. It wasn’t my parents' fault that I had been captured.

However, I was thankful this was my second time explaining my life to people. I had gained a certain amount of practice explaining things. But the more I recounted my life, the more I realized it was filled with both terrible incidents and happy moments. And most of those good times started when I escaped Sandervile and met Sylvia. There were, of course, Muriel and even some happy moments in Sandervile, but those were few and far between.

Some may say I over-exaggerated my time with Sylvia, but I didn’t believe so. As the words flowed from my mouth, it really put my time with her into perspective. She saved my life multiple times. Sylvia has stood next to me during some of my most challenging battles. She even spent weeks beside me, nursing me back to health. Not to mention all the times she helped me mentally ground and situate myself.

Honestly…if I hadn’t met Sylvia…my life would have probably been a whole lot worse.

And explaining this to my family appeared to go over well. The heavy atmosphere was lifted from the room, even if it was only a little. Now that my parents understood why this masked person was sitting next to me, they smiled and profusely thanked Sylvia for helping me. My mom cried genuine tears of happiness to hear that my life hadn’t been a complete hell hole for seven years, mostly in due part to Sylvia’s actions.

So far, it appears they don’t know who Sylvia is. Or that she is a Vampire. Perhaps word hadn’t reached them yet.

And it seems Sylvia took things in stride as she nodded her head and took my parent’s thanks. She was proud, and I admired that, although she seemed pretty embarrassed about my rendition of events even though I was speaking the truth. It also seemed to have calmed her down a bit.

But while I was explaining our time as adventurers and things got around to our second encounter with a certain enigmatic adventurer, my dad, of all people, let out a groan. He rubbed his face, stood up, and immediately began taking off his armor.

“Dad? Is there something wrong?” I asked.

This was unusual, considering how he had been the last few times. He groaned again and shook his head while letting his shoulder pieces fall to the floor with a loud clang. Although I watched Dad, I didn’t miss how Dallin reflexively winced at the loud noise. I found that odd, but it would be something I could bring up later.

Dad sighed and looked at me with a mixture of frustration and exasperation. “Yes…there is. I can’t believe that fool found you before I did.”

I blinked a few times at that one and heard Grandpa snicker under his breath. “You know the Twilight Knight?” Sylvia asked.

Dad moved over and sat back down on the couch. He tried to force himself deeper into the couch but gave up and ran his hands through his long black hair. “Unfortunately, I do. I could call him a friend, but that may be a bit much. He is more of an acquaintance. I had reached out to him as he was the only person I could trust to look for you.”

Do you mean to tell me that man was looking for me?

“Are you serious? Why…wait, is he a Dark Elf?” I blurted out.

Dad nodded his head. “Yes. Let me guess. He still wears that armor and talks all stuffy and weirdly proper, huh?” I nodded, which made my dad groan in second-hand embarrassment. “I swear that man lost all of his intelligence to his brother. You see, he read a book that was poorly translated into Elvish when we were young boys. And since then, he has become that character. He adopted everything, even the character’s odd sense of justice and mannerisms…and the poorly translated way of speaking. He even shoves his ears into that infernal helmet and never shows his face…it’s ridiculous.”

“Why him? What about your sister?” I reasoned.

Dad winced at the mention of his sister. “Yeah…I couldn’t do that. I knew that if I asked him to look for a child and keep things quiet, he would do it. He may be a freak, but he is trustworthy, at the very least. It also helps that he is incredibly strong, so he can do it alone and not need to ask anyone for help. I just can’t believe he walked right up to you and let you tell him no…what an idiot…”

I guess I can leave the part about the Twilight Knight alone for now. So this means he is avoiding talking to his sister…huh?

“You said he lost his intelligence to his brother? What is his brother’s name by chance?”

Dad raised his eyebrows at my question. “Parhen? Why?”

Oh…no…

Judging by Dad’s reaction, it seems he doesn’t know. “Dad…just to be sure, your sister’s name is Illyssia, right?”

Dad’s face morphed into a complicated smile as he rubbed the back of his head. “Yeah, so I assume that means Sia spoke to you?”

Sia? That must be her nickname… a sort of weird one at that. Why not Lys? Or even Lisa?

“You could say that. But I should probably tell you that Parhen is my uncle…and they had a son,” I explained.

Dad stared at me for a few moments with a blank expression. His purple eyes drifted over me as if they were scanning me for some kind of falsehood. Then he brought both his hands to his face and aggressively rubbed his cheeks. I looked at Mom for some guidance, but she just gave me a wry smile, and Dallin looked on with raised eyebrows. It seems everyone was a bit surprised.

Dad spread his fingers so I could see one of his eyes. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” I nodded. Dad groaned and chuckled self-deprecatingly to himself. “So…I’m an uncle. And my brother is Parhen. I suppose I deserve this, considering my actions.”

Although Dad admitted some fault, he definitely doesn’t seem too pleased with this revelation. “May I ask why?”

“How about you finish your story, and I’ll tell you mine. And it’s mostly just personal family stuff,” he grumbled.

I agreed and continued recounting things. I was near the end of my story, but I figured I wouldn’t leave much out. I told them about my time at school and how Bowen had treated me and helped me live here. I explained what I was doing in my classes and my friendships with everyone. It seemed that this side of the topic was much more enjoyable for everyone as, for the most part, it was a positive thing.

I once again decided to skip Mila for the time being and figured I would end it with that as a final send-off. I also had another plan, as I hadn’t told my family exactly who Sylvia was, but I wasn’t going to force her into making that kind of decision. So I opted to talk about what happened with the Dragon and Avasta.

The second I brought up Chaos Dragons, Mom averted her eyes from me, staring off into a corner of the couch. I knew this must have been a complicated topic, and she seemed slightly embarrassed to discuss it. I don’t blame her. Admitting to your child that you were partially conceived by ancient Dragon magic is, uh…something. And I, of course, mentioned that I had spoken to Avasta, and she had told me…certain things.

I waited a few moments, looking at Mom expectantly for her to explain, but she seemed reluctant. Finally, Dad nudged her, and Mom looked into his eyes. Dad smiled and nodded. “You should tell him. We did promise him, didn’t we?”

Mom nodded her head and looked at me with an apologetic smile. “Sorry…Kal…that we didn’t tell you sooner.”

“It’s okay. I don’t think it would have changed much, and I wouldn’t have expected you to explain this to a seven-year-old. But with that being said…” I raised an eyebrow and looked at Dallin, who just smiled at me. “Are you sure you want Dallin to know?”

Mom nodded and smiled as she ran a hand through Dallin’s hair. “It’s only fair. If I could go back, I would have told you.” Instead, mom gently raised Dallin’s face and smiled at him with a deep kindness in her golden eyes. “Dallin, this is an important story. It’s how you and your big brother came to be. Are you ready to hear it?”

Dallin smiled brightly and nodded his head in excitement. Dallin’s demeanor reminded me of Dad or, well, the version of Dad I knew. Cheerful and outgoing. Right now, he seems a bit off, but there are a lot of emotions being thrown around, and I’m sure he is tired. I found it hard to believe he picked that up from Dad, considering how things went down, and Mom is definitely not like this.

So who did he learn these mannerisms from? Is this just simply how he is? If I never became Kaladin Shadowheart…would Kaladin have been the same as Dallin?

Mom cleared her throat and adjusted herself in her chair. Everyone perked up and watched her intently, myself included. The only person who didn’t seem interested was Grandpa, and I had a feeling he knew the story. After all, he knew a Dark Elf and High Elf having a child together was impossible, yet he helped bring me into this world. I’m sure he had many questions.

“Well…after your dad and I decided to be together, we just happened to have been fighting through a dungeon. During our grand escape, I came across an egg that a Goliath was protecting. We defeated the monster, and I tried putting the egg away into my ring…but it didn’t work,” Mom explained.

She is…dodging a lot of questions. Decided to be together? Fighting through a dungeon? Killing a Goliath and finding an egg? I feel as if I had more questions, not less. How Mom told the story was the exact opposite of how I had been doing things.

Which was fine. If she wanted to be evasive now, in public, I could understand that. However, she and I will be having a crucial conversation soon.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

And I wouldn’t allow her to wriggle out of that one.

She took a deep breath and continued telling her story. “Your father was rather…frustrated with me for deciding to take the egg along. And rightfully so, considering the egg weighed a lot. But I didn’t allow his negativity to discourage me.”

Mom stopped and raised an eyebrow at him, only for Dad to find the corner of the room more interesting, his face turning a light shade of pink from embarrassment. “Anyways, long story short, I managed to bring the egg out of the dungeon successfully. I had planned to sell it at the time as I had no idea what it was. I had never seen a pink and light blue egg with weird scales that weighed so much. But we didn’t make it very far.”

“Avasta showed up, didn’t she?” I asked.

Mom just smiled and nodded her head weakly. “Yes, arriving is one way to put it. I had honestly believed that the end of my life had come. Never had I felt so hopeless. We thought she was there to kill us, but on a whim, she started questioning us. And for whatever reason, she decided to believe us.”

“That egg then…” Sylvia murmured.

Dad grunted and nodded his head. “It may have been hers. A Dragon’s egg, if I had to guess.”

Padraic nearly spat on himself. “What? Okay, hold on…that…monster pretending to be a woman was Avasta, right? And you found her lost egg? So how does a Dragon Emperor even lose their egg? And that means that…creature had a child? Should we be worried?”

Dad shrugged. “I have no idea. She never told us, and at that time…I felt like asking may have gotten me killed.”

“I agree…it didn’t really matter how she lost it but that she did. She thanked us for doing her “duty” and left us with a parting gift in the form of a wish. Well, me, that is, since your father didn’t do anything. And well… as you can see, I wished to have a family…to have sons…” Mom admitted sheepishly. “Avasta had warned me that it would likely never come true and that it would nearly be impossible for me to have a child with your father. But I asked for it regardless of the success chance.”

“So…that’s how it is?” I asked.

Mom’s face flushed bright red as she brought a hand to her face. “Well…yes and no. It took a few years of trying to—”

Dad let out a sound as if he had been punched in the gut, interrupting Mom and covering her mouth. “What?! Don’t go around saying that type of stuff in front of them!” my dad wailed.

Mom blushed even more and batted her eyes at Dad. “But you were just so vigorous and passiona—”

“Stop!” my dad blurted. If the man wasn’t embarrassed before, he sure was now. His entire face was bright pink to the tips of his droopy ears. He couldn’t even look Mom in the eyes.

Of course, she just giggled to herself and looked at Dallin and then me. “And well…the rest is history.”

Padraic had on a wry smile, and Grandpa remained motionless. Cerila also seemed somewhat embarrassed. Even I felt a bit awkward to hear about my parents…well…making me. It was something I’d rather not hear. I didn’t need them to go into detail.

Sylvia and Mila were just listening quietly, and I felt like this conversation went way over Mila’s head some time ago. Mila gave me a questioning and confused look, but I just nodded at her, and that seemingly conveyed that things were okay, even if she didn’t quite understand what was happening. I’m sure there will be a day when I have to explain this to her.

I also wasn’t sure what Sylvia thought about all of this, but I had explained to her about the “Child of Chaos” stuff when I had woken up. At the time, she didn’t seem too bothered and sort of just shrugged it off. But now that there was more information…I wondered if she thought of me differently, considering I was born from this chaos magic.

Well…today isn’t over…and I still have a few bombs to drop. I might as well get this over with.

I cleared my throat to gather everyone’s attention. “So…while explaining the latter half of my time at school and before the Dragon attack…I had purposely skipped over one essential part.”

Padraic just laughed at me and raised his eyebrows up and down at me. “Oh, I’m sure you did. Do you plan on explaining it now, or are we going to have to force it out of you?”

“No, I plan on telling you right now.”

Padraic gave me a look of surprise and let his head sink into the couch. “Well…that was easy,” he grumbled, almost as if he was disappointed.

“During my little adventure when I ran into the Chapter of Despair again…I found something else there.”

“Oh? And what would that be?” Dad asked. “And you ran into those bastards again?”

I put a hand on Mila’s back, and her head snapped at me. She gave me a worried look, but I smiled back at her. “I did, and I handled them. However, I found Mila there. She was a slave being kept by the chapter. And well…lots of things happened that I can explain if you want, but to keep things simple...even though I haven’t done the best of jobs, Sylvia and I have adopted Mila. We have been raising her as our daughter for nearly five months now. Sylvia had raised her in my stead when I was asleep after the Dragon attack. So…Mila is my daughter.”

Padraic was moving his hands, translating what I was saying, and stopped abruptly, staring blankly out in front of him. After that, everyone went quiet, and even Grandpa opened his eyes, looking me over with wide, surprised eyes.

The silence stretched on for an uncomfortable amount of time, and Mila nudged me to see what was wrong. Her dark blue eyes hinted at fear, and she knew that we were talking about her. She fidgeted nervously and grabbed ahold of my jacket with sweaty hands. She had remained relatively silent since meeting my family, but I decided to push things along.

Despite my parents being shocked, I picked Mila up and set her on her feet in front of me. I made sure to put on my best smile as well. “Mila, these people are my family. Can you say hi to your grandparents for me? I think they would like to meet you.”

“Your family…” Mila muttered to herself while turning towards the other couch.

Mom and Dad’s eyes were wide as saucers, and I watched a single tear escape from Mom. It slowly made its way down her face as she looked on in surprise. Mila was nervous as she flattened her ears to her head, and her spotted tail curled up. She looked away from me and looked to Sylvia for guidance, only for Sylvia to nudge her forward gently.

Mila walked towards Mom and Dad, albeit hesitantly. Everyone was watching her with surprised looks, and all the attention made her a bit nervous.

But she pushed through and rubbed her hands together. “Hi…” she said meekly.

The first person to react wasn’t Mom or Dad but Grandpa. He let out a deep laugh that quickly turned into a coughing fit. Even a tear rolled down his face, but I couldn't be sure whether it was from emotions or his coughing fit.

Mila immediately looked at me with fear written all over her adorable face. Perhaps she felt that she was the one that caused Grandpa’s coughing fit, but I wouldn’t get a chance to explain that as Mom had made her move.

And Mila didn’t stand a chance.

Her little cheetah ears flicked up, and she tried turning around, but Mom was far too fast for her. Mom was on her knees, sobbing, holding Mila tightly to her chest, and running her hands through her short orange hair. Mila gave me a pleading look at first, but I felt my face hurting from smiling, and once she saw that, she sort of just let it happen. Not that I would have been able to stop Mom anyways.

Dad eventually joined Mom, although with fewer tears and a more friendly smile. “Hi, Mila…” he said, somewhat nervously.

Mila freed her face from Mom’s clutches and looked up at him for a long time. Her stare was more inquisitive than nervous now then she gave me a quick glance. Mom pulled back from Mila, and Mila also gave her a curious glance. The little girl slowly lifted her hand and gently guided it across Mom’s sharp Eleven facial features. Her slim finger traced Mom’s jawline and nose.

I couldn’t help but feel confused at what Mila was doing until I heard her take a deep breath as she wrinkled her nose. Mila nodded once to herself. “You smell and look like Daddy.”

That was all she had said to Mom. And I was starting to think Mom had run out of tears at this point…it seems we may be cursed with infinite tears. Even I couldn’t stop myself.

“You’re so precious! That’s the best compliment I’ve ever received,” Mom said in between sobs, hugging Mila again.

Dad stood up with a wry smile and rubbed the back of his head. “What about me, Mila? Do I look and smell like your dad?”

Mila once again managed to wiggle free of Mom’s embrace, only for her to just shrug half-heartedly. Dad’s shoulders slumped, allowing his body to crumble into the couch. It was like somebody had cut his strings. He looked absolutely defeated.

Sylvia giggled, and I joined in. Of course, now that it had been seven years, I could say comfortably that I resembled my mother far more in the face than my father. I may have chalked that up to this “Child of Chaos” nonsense, but it seemed it was simply a matter of genetics as Dallin appeared to take after Dad more. His facial features resembled that of a Dark Elf more than a High Elf.

And speaking of Dallin…

“Mila…this is your uncle, Dallin,” my mom said softly.

Mila and Dallin then proceeded to have a staring contest for some time, neither even so much as breathing loudly. Finally, not wanting to focus on more awkward silence, I realized something. Dallin and Mila should be around the same age, but Dallin looked much older. I was never too sure about Mila’s age, but the more I looked at Dallin, the younger Mila appeared.

Perhaps Mila is only six? Maybe almost six? It could go either way…maybe she just looked younger because of her time in slavery? Or perhaps it’s a Beastmen thing? I suppose Mila did look more youthful than Cerila when Cerila was around her age.

Cerila…

Trying to keep track of everyone’s reactions and keeping people engaged was challenging. Cerila seemed content to follow along with the translations and asked me a few questions during my explanation, but that was it. At the start of all this, she just seemed happy to be in the same room as me. But now…she has a far-off look in her eyes and looks like she is in deep thought. But not the kind of deep thought she usually entered when we were studying. And I knew she understood what I said because she could read lips unless she somehow lost that skill, which I highly doubt.

Cerila caught me staring at her, and she quickly wiped that expression off her face. She instead just smiled as if she was tired and pointed at Dallin and Mila. When I turned my attention back to them, Mila was standing in front of Dallin, and if I didn’t know her better, I would have thought she was sizing him up.

Her dark blue eyes were narrowed, and her tail was coiled up. So far, Mila had been taking this surprisingly well outside of her nervousness. A part of me thought she might be reluctant to accept Mom and Dad. But perhaps the whole “smelling like family” element had a bit more credence than I thought. I would have to get around to introducing Cerila and Padraic properly as well as Grandpa.

But her doing this much is good enough for one day.

“You smell…kind of like Daddy,” Mila said, sounding unsure of herself.

Perhaps siblings don’t smell all that much alike? Or…maybe Dallin doesn’t have that much of a smell to him? Elves don’t typically emit any body odors. I mean, if we get things on us, then we smell like that, but that’s it. I suppose we can smell “dirty” if enough filth builds up, just like anyone else.

Then again, Bella mentioned that Elves have a particular smell. So maybe there is a difference, but maybe Mila isn’t old enough to pick it up?

Dallin smiled awkwardly and looked around at everyone. “What did she say?” he asked.

Oh…Dallin can’t speak Human? I suppose that makes sense. Did Grandpa not teach him? I suppose he is still young…but still…

I never really thought that he wouldn’t understand me. I just responded to him in Elvish because it felt natural at the time. So he’s been following along with Padraic’s Sign Language translations when I spoke Human. I was surprised he was that adept. Cerila or Mom must have taught him.

Dad chuckled to himself and put a hand on Dallin’s shoulder. “She said you smell like your brother.”

Dallin cocked his head to the side. “I smell like Brother?” he asked more to himself than to Dad. He turned his golden eyes to Mom. “Is that… a good thing?”

Mom smiled brightly and nodded her head. “I believe it’s a great compliment. Why don’t you say hi to her? I think you two are around the same age. Maybe you can be friends?”

Mom looked to me for approval, and I simply nodded. It would be weird for Dallin to be an uncle figure to Mila, considering they are both so young and only a few years apart. And I didn’t miss the smile that crept up on Dallin’s face when Mom mentioned being friends.

“Hi, Mila. Would you like to be friends?” Dallin asked, almost sounding giddy.

Mila immediately flicked around with her brows furrowed and a slight look of annoyance on her face. She pointed a finger at Dallin. “What did he say?”

Ah…this language barrier may be difficult.

“Dallin asked you to be his friend,” Sylvia said softly.

Mila crossed her arms across her chest and frowned. “But Rosemary is already my friend. I don’t need another friend.”

“Bahahaha!” Grandpa started laughing in his chair and began tapping his foot against the floor. He was laughing so hard I thought the old man was going to expire right in front of us.

His green eyes gazed into me, and a smile crept on his face. “A few months, was it? She is more like you than I could ever imagine.”

“I…yeah…maybe a little,” I grumbled.

I don’t really think that’s something I would have done. That same attitude screamed Sylvia to me, but I wasn’t going to point that out.

“Mila, you know you can have multiple friends, right? I have many friends,” I explained.

Mila’s ears wiggled a few times as she mulled over my explanation. But her attention got taken away by Padraic, who started laughing. “Lots of friends, huh? It seems you really have changed,” Padraic said fondly.

“Hey…I had friends.”

Padraic brought a hand up to his eyes like he was blocking out the sun and looking out into the distance. He scanned the room with a smug grin. “Yeah, enough to fit in a single bedroom.”

“I could say the same thing about you,” I retorted.

Padraic shrugged. “That was by choice. I just felt bad for the two weirdos in the back of the class.”

“You’re one to talk…have you heard yourself talk before?” I said playfully.

Padraic was about to refute my claim, but there was a small crack, and a blue cube of ice smacked Padraic in the forehead. He let out a yelp and began rubbing his forehead. “Hey! What did you do that for?!”

Cerila was just sitting in her chair with a leg crossed over her knee. A look of annoyance began to break down as a small smile tugged on the corner of her lips.

This is…nostalgic.

After a little bit of banter, I noticed that Mom was acting as a translator between Dallin and Mila. The two were talking, and although Mila was clearly hesitant about all of this, she wasn’t refuting it. Perhaps she felt this was important, or maybe since I asked her to consider it, she was willing to try it.

It wouldn’t surprise me if Dallin and Mila were simply incompatible as friends. These two kids have lived vastly different lives, and there is definitely some…conflict here. Then again, Rosemary, Bowen’s daughter, lived a life that was the complete opposite of Mila, but those two have grown to be fast friends. Of course, maybe I’m just being cynical about all of this.

Dad watched as the two children communicated awkwardly with a kind, tired smile. It was the same smile he often wore back in Owlkirk. Apparently, that smile was meant to copy his sister. But even now…I felt like he wasn't pretending. In all my years growing up with this man, I never once thought his attitude was fake.

Perhaps I was terrible at reading people back then, so I never noticed the signs. Or maybe Dad really had changed into a different person. Considering what he’s been through and what he’s done, I think it’s the latter.

Dad caught me smiling at him, and I figured now was the time to get some more answers. Once my parents told me some more things, I would drop the final bomb. Well, I would prep it. I wouldn’t be the one to tell that secret.

“Dad, would you mind telling me about your life?”