No, they weren’t done yet. Tin followed on his heels. Dorothy looked nothing like a fae. Her ears were round, her cheekbones low, though he supposed that could be from her mother’s side. But even if it was true—which he doubted—how would Dorothy have made it to Kansas? And why? Crow seemed the type to adore children. He was patient and kind, protective. Fatherly. It didn’t make sense for him to give his daughter away, and to mortals no less. “Who’s her mother?” Tin asked slowly, not taking his eyes off Crow.
