“What’s a birthday?” I asked. Tegan blinked at me. “The day you were born. You celebrate and people give you gifts. When my mom was alive, she threw a little party for me.” That idea seemed outlandish. “Why would people give you presents for something that was none of your doing?” It wasn’t like earning a name. I’d gotten gifts on my naming day because I survived for fifteen years, long enough to deserve them. That, I understood. This tradition made no sense at all. “Because they care about you,” Tegan said, seeming to realize I wasn’t joking. “But every single year?” “Of course.” She fought a
...more
