Chapter 5

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This tapestry of red flags just keeps getting bigger.

"What are you naming him?" Andromeda asks the same question Zahra's been asking me ever since I told her what happened after she abandoned me. Unlike Zahra—who is currently outside with the kids and who was more than happy to tell me the entire event was a lovely social experience for me—Andromeda seems genuinely happy.

I do not want to tell her, or Zahra, the only name I can think of. Because it is stupid. And I'm almost positive I dreamed up the part of the story where Pollux gave me his coat, and his coat smelled like chai and coconut. I must have been losing my mind. Because this morning, the coat was gone, the scent was lingering, and the tiny cinnamon-sprinkled kitten was sleeping on my throat.

Long story short: I am not naming him Chai.

"Mm, still thinking about that one," I offer, absently.

"I can't believe you accepted him," she chirps.

Neither can I.

Coming home to Mom and Dad with a kitten last night was not what I planned. Lucky for me, Dad fell in love the second the tiny fuzzball began purring. He seemed truly miffed he previously made plans with Mom today that meant I had to bring our—as he explicitly informed me while we were at the twenty-four-hour Walmart getting supplies—new kitten with me to school.

Andromeda plays with the kitten's tiny paws. "Zy should meet him. They could kitty together."

"Zy?" Vacantly, I mark down another detail I can't forget concerning the field trip I'm planning for the end of this month, after Thanksgiving break. With all the holidays coming up, and all the unavoidable scattered sick days a small school like ours inevitably had, I need to squish the field trip onto a weekend to get an extra "school day" marked down. I need to iron out school board approval for bus rental costs and get permission slips sent around. As if permission slips mean anything. Clearly, Pollux didn't know Andromeda was coming here, Willow isn't really her guardian, and all I need is a stupid signature to absolve this school of liability in the event whoever actually takes care of her raises a fuss.

But, officer, I have in pen a scribble of a name that matches other scribbles. I've done my very best to gain the consent of the adult responsible for this child.

Everything is such a joke. There's no real protection for anyone from anything. It's all one word against another, and too often those words are much too flimsy to relay anything of worth.

My brow furrows, and I realize I have zoned out into a court room full of dodo birds who can barely hold their pencils. The judge's gavel flies from his feathers, and he loses his wig trying to get it back. Lifting my head, I find Andromeda, who isn't even supposed to be inside right now. It's recess. Everyone else is playing dodge ball. "I'm sorry, sweetie. What did you say?"

"Zy is Willow's husband. He's a vampire cat. Our relationship isn't really something Daddy wants me to talk about."

My stomach sinks. "Sweetie…" I set my pen down. "You can tell me anything. I promise you won't get in trouble. I'm here to help you."

She lifts her gaze off the tiny cat, who is not named Chai, and her smile fades. "It's…complicated, Mrs. Role."

Mrs.Role? That's new. She must be mixing up her honorifics. But that's not important right now.

"It's okay for it to be complicated. We can address it one part at a time."

Her head shakes. "Daddy really would rather I not talk about it. I'm sure he wants to explain it himself. I just feel bad sometimes. Willow's been so nice to me, even though she hates kids."

"She hates kids?"

Andromeda nods. "Everyone has at least one big thing at the root of their fears. For her, it's abandonment and children. She was bullied a lot while she was growing up. Being around Daddy isn't pleasant. But being around me…it's worse for her. She forces herself to brave it, though, because she doesn't want any kids to be as lonely as she was. She faces her fear a lot. She even reads to the kids at the library each week. It makes me feel bad, for what I did to her."

My mind spirals. I keep my voice light and conversational. "What did you do to her?"

Andromeda shakes her head.

It hurts to breathe. "Oh, sweetheart."

She lifts a shoulder as she smooths her finger up Chai's brown-spotted forehead. "I'd like to apologize." Her little laugh nearly shatters my heart. "I just don't know how I'm supposed to apologize for something so big. I'm not really supposed to exist, but I like to exist, you know? Even though my existence caused so much pain."

Tears burn as I push out of my chair, crouch, and wrap her up in my arms. "Don't you dare talk like that," I whisper.

"It's just the truth. Daddy tells me—"

"Don't you dare listen to your father if he talks like this." I force myself to level out my tone. "I am glad you exist. It is not your fault what adults do."

Andromeda hesitates before she wraps her little arms around me. "I think you're confused. Maybe this is why Daddy says not to talk about it. I don't know how to explain it right. I don't want you to hate me for what I've done. I just feel so bad sometimes."

I can think of a dozen reasons why her daddy doesn't want her to talk about a relationship she has with a grown man, but the important thing for the moment is that she knows her existence isn't a bad thing. No matter what. Crouching, I cup her cheeks and look in her blue eyes. "Listen to me, sweet girl. There is nothing you could say or do that would make me hate you. You exist for a very important reason, even if it may not feel like you've found it yet. Don't let your father convince you that you aren't supposed to be here."

Her face crinkles as she cups my cheeks in return. "You're misunderstanding something, Mrs. Role. It's not that Daddy doesn't want me to exist—he does. He wasn't supposed to make me exist."

Was she an accident? What good parent tells their child they were a mistake? "Meda…where is your mother? What happened to her?"

"I don't have one. I technically don't have a father, either. A lot of fae don't have biological parents. The ones born like me adopt our families."

The sounds of the children heading toward the school from the gym let me know this conversation has to come to a close. Kissing Andromeda's forehead, I murmur, "We can talk more about this later. But please know that whatever choices others made, right or wrong, you are too young to be responsible for them. Do you understand?"

Worry eats away at her expression.

"Do you understand?" I echo as the footsteps and voices get closer.

Her head shakes. "Yes, but you don't. And Daddy will be upset if I don't fix this. Please come home with me after school and talk to him."

The classroom door opens, and Zahra clicks her boot heels together. "Attention! March."

Giggling, my menagerie of littles stomps into the classroom and each stops behind his or her desk.

"Mrs. Role. Please."

Zahra marches up to me and salutes. "Ma'am. The children survived the gym and the outdoors, ma'am. Only one tried to eat mud, ma'am. We all know who that was, don't we, ma'am?" A snicker erupts, and Zahra casts a narrow look at Josh before grinning and addressing me again. "We are proud of them, aren't we, ma'am?"

"Mrs. Role," Andromeda pleads.

Rising, I smile at Andromeda. "Okay. Go take your seat now."

Relief swarms into Andromeda's expression before she nods. "Gratitude."

Zahra looks between us and drops the theatrics. "Did I miss something?"

Taking a deep breath, I wipe the entire conversation off my face, smile bright, scoop Chai up to deliver him into the little kitty carrier I bought at Walmart last night, and say, "We will talk later." Probably when she's bailing me out of jail. For putting a steak knife through Pollux's hand.