RyattMy mother blinks, then blinks again, that milky, whirling magic clearing from her eyes. Eyes the color of emeralds lock on mine, then slowly graze toward Westfall.Her skin goes pale.“No,” she says, so softly we all almost miss it. “Where–” She backs away from Isaac and Westfall, shaking her head.“Cressie,” Westfall says, his voice trembling with emotion. “It’s okay.”Her eyes dart to his, and her face crumbles. “Adrian?”I watch my parents find each other after over two decades apart, and it breaks me.She looks at me again, then at Ella, then down at the baby still in her arms. “Who is this? Whose baby is this?”“She’s ours,” I say, loud enough that my voice echoes around the room. Her eyes meet mine, and she shakes her head.I wait for her to ask me who I am. How do I explain that I’m her son? It’s been twenty years since she last saw me. I was just a child, and I was too young to hold onto the memory of her face, and now….“Ryatt?” Her voice cracks as she looks back at Wes
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