me about my grades and behavior. She never hit me or anything like that, but it felt like she was always hypercritical of me.”
I could feel the hesitation in her voice. “You know, sometimes people are the hardest on those they love the best because they want them to succeed. They don’t want them to fall through the cracks. The opposite of love isn’t hatred, it’s indifference. If you’re indifferent to someone, you don’t bother worrying.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. All right, I’ll take the ring.” She hesitated, then added, “You know, I dreamed about her a few nights back. About one of the actual good memories I have. We were making cookies—I was the only one who liked to cook. Denise let me make the batter all by myself. And then, at one point, when the first batch came out of the oven, she tasted one and told me that was the best cookie she had ever eaten. She asked me if I had ever thought of becoming a baker and owning a bakery. You know what? I own a bakery now.”
“Give me your address and I’ll send off the ring to you. By the way, what’s the name of your bakery? I love baked goods and would be happy to try out your cookies.” I jotted down the address and then the name of her bakery. While I had no clue why Denise had been so insistent about the ring going to Kaitlin, there had obviously been a bond between the two that neither one had acknowledged. As I hung up, I wondered what kind of impact our conversation would have. I’d probably never know—and I decided that was all right.
When Kipa and my father came in, driven out of the yard by the rain, I had hot cocoa and cookies waiting. Raj was watching a game show, and I had spent half an hour balancing my bank accounts.
“What happened? Did Wager tell you anything useful?” Kipa kissed me as he brushed past to wash up. He smelled like rain and soil and a deep musk that came from hard work and sweat.
“Yeah, so hurry up,” I said as the doorbell rang.
I hustled over and peeked out the keyhole to see my mother standing there. I opened the door and waved her in. “Hey, what gives? Two visits in one week? I thought you were headed back to Dad’s place to pack for him.”
She gave me a haphazard kiss and stalked by, shaking her head. “You take the cake, Curikan. I’m sure you didn’t think I’d find these.” She tossed a massive pile of envelopes on the table. “Just who is Peach Blossom?”
He bit his lip, staring at the letters that were tied up in bundles with ribbon. “Someone I know.”
“Someone you know, my ass. It’s fine if she’s your girlfriend, but I expect you to man up and do the right thing.” When Phasmoria was on a tear, you didn’t cross her because she’d rip you a new one.
“What’s going on?” I reached for one of the letters but my father slapped my hand—gently, but hard enough to make me drop the envelope.
“These letters are none of your business,” he said.
“They most certainly are, given the circumstances.” Phasmoria held up a pack of five letters. “I wouldn’t have read them without permission. And Peach Blossom gave me permission. She also introduced me to your son.”
I froze, slowly withdrawing my hand. “Dad? You have a son?”
Curikan blushed, his cheeks flaming as he stared at the mound of cards and letters sitting on the table. “Well, to be honest, yes. I do. I didn’t know about him until a few months back, but I guess the cat is out of the bag. Raven, you have a little brother.”
I stared at him. Why had he hidden this?
Phasmoria spoke before I could. “Peach Blossom dropped by your house while I was there. We had a long talk.”
Curikan’s blush spread and he cleared his throat. “I see.”
“What the hell is going on? Who’s Peach Blossom? How old is my brother and why didn’t you tell me about him?” I suddenly found myself angry. “Why did you keep this all a secret?”
“All right, all right!” Curikan held up his hands and shook his head. “I give up. Peach Blossom is one of the Ante-Fae out east. She’s originally from down south but she moved up north about two decades ago when the heat got too intense. I met her when I was out