POV: Amara Kings
I slapped my mother across the face.
The sound echoed through the empty cabin where we'd finally found space to talk. Seraphina's head snapped to the side, and I saw tears form in her golden eyes—eyes that looked exactly like mine.
"Eighteen years," I said, my voice shaking with rage. "Eighteen years you let me think you were dead."
She touched her face where my hand had left a red mark. "Amara, I can explain—"
"Explain what? How you abandoned me? How you let Dad lock me away like some dirty secret while you played dead?"
"It wasn't like that."
"Then what was it like?" I asked. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like both my parents decided I was too much trouble to deal with."
Seraphina stood up slowly, and I could see how weak she still was from her years in prison. Part of me felt guilty for hitting her, but the angry part of me was stronger.
"You want the truth?" she asked softly. "Fine. But you're not going to like it."
