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Thirty nine

I stared at my mom's face. She looked physically stressed and rubbed her temple while taking periodic deep breaths.

She had called me to speak with me about Athena, and all her fears and criticisms about Athena were unfounded. The other time, I caught her hiding behind a pillar, watching me and Athena, and even though I had seen her, I pretended not to notice. She had reservations about Athena. Athena didn't mention it, but I could tell there was an energy shift when she talked with my dad versus when she had to speak with my mom.

"I don't have a good feeling about her," Mom told me in a serious tone. "She looks weird, and why would she not want to be marked? What lame excuse has she been feeding you and your father?"

I found my mom's dramatics amusing and chuckled. "She's not comfortable with it yet. We should give her time."

But Mom wouldn't let up. "I don't like her. She seems like a problematic person who is hiding something big. Wake up, see what's happening, and don't be blind
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