Somewhere out there, I have a family. She was sitting across the table from a woman who had just opened a world she had desperately sought all her life—a family with turquoise eyes and weird gifts. One where she might fit in, one who might actually want her and accept her as she was, warts and all. She didn’t know how to feel. She’d spent so long teaching herself numbness that she was terrified to feel joy. She didn’t trust happiness. She was one sick, pathetic excuse for a human being. Maybe, if she could believe this woman really was family… Could that possibly mean that she had a mother somewhere who had trained her to access her Voice? Did that mean it wasn’t evil? Or on the flip side—had her mother thought she was evil and that’s why she’d been abandoned? That was just the very tip of the iceberg of questions she sat on and the reason she couldn’t jump for joy just yet. She feared she’d choke on the subjects threatening to tumble out in confusion and that she’d say something that would drive this one connection to her family fleeing into the night.
