“Husbands? The Blackthorn women are far too smart to fall for that old trap.” By that point, I already knew my own father was regarded as nothing more than a means to an end, some disposable man my mother made use of when she felt the time was right for her to have a child. His identity was never revealed to me. I still don’t know if he was a stranger passing through or someone I saw at church every week. It’s the Blackthorn way and has been for as long as anyone can remember: men are only tools, and love is only for fools.
