I found myself sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of hot chocolate heating my hands while the two women in my life stared at me like they weren't sure I was ready to hear what they had to say.
Gram poked at the mini marshmallows in her cup with one sharp nail, scowling like they offended her somehow. Mom ignored hers, shifting in her seat a time or two before she finally spoke.
"Honey," she said, "there are things you don't know about Quaid."
I flinched from her, from her words, anger rising in place of sadness. "You were the one who wanted me to marry him."
She made a face, guilt and grief at war on her flawless face. "I know, Syd," she said. "That was before I understood where Quaid came from."
"The Dumont coven." I hated the name already. Hated everyone in that stupid family.
Turned out I wasn't far off Gram's feelings for them, either.
"The Dumonts." Gram spit the name like it hurt her tongue to speak it. "Filth of the witching world."