Father, Margot, and Mae stood in a line dockside beside the Turan ships. Their spines were stiff, posture perfect with hands clasped and crowns gleaming in the faint rays of dawn. They’d come to say goodbye. The relief at seeing them was so great it knocked the wind from my lungs and drove my feet to a stop. They came. On the walk back from the marroweels, I’d convinced myself it didn’t matter if they skipped this send-off. That I wouldn’t be hurt, knowing that Father had promised to bring me home when my spying was complete.
