CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE

Myra's Pov

My ears suddenly turned tone deaf as the sentence struck a chord. And a chord that snapped as it was struck.

It felt like I was dead, but my body still pulled my soul back inside, struggling and promising that it wouldn't let go. Even though I wanted it so bad to do so.

But yet, even more, I wanted so badly to see the face of who was talking. I strangely now wanted to see who this person was. As a rapidly growing desire pushed me to see their face; and count the contours, to see the color of their eyes, their hair, and trace their demeanor.

And strangely...

To find out what they would think of me.

My thoughts ran wild and almost mad as I replayed the question in my brain:

"Are you sure she's my daughter?"

My heart thumped painfully as my consciousness began flowing back down roads of memories I had made a choice not to go back to.

And I wandered off to all that mom had said about father dying. About how he had gone out to sea to travel, to work in a distant pack area.

And