“You really are your mother’s bloodline.”
When those words left my father’s mouth, my heart sank.

“What did you say?”

I had to ask again, just to make sure I’d heard correctly.
I needed to hear it again.

What I’d just heard was too monumental to let pass so easily.

“My mother’s bloodline?”

It was an obvious statement. I was her child, after all.
Or rather—

“It wouldn’t matter even if I weren’t.”

Honestly, it didn’t matter.
I’d even entertained the thought that I might not be.

I had heard people call her a calamity from …