The first place I checked was her desk. Every drawer was unlocked but emptied of their contents. My father must have moved them. I searched every nook and cranny but came up empty. Obsidian had taken to the dresser, managing to open each drawer with surprising ease by wedging his beak in and then pushing the rest open with his feet. Those were empty, too.

We checked each pot, the spot underneath them, and even the dirt inside. My mother had once buried her Scroll in a bed of marigolds, and it had taken us days to find it again. That was fruitless. I pulled back the divider and checked every inch of my mom’s bed. The sheets were piled high on top of the mattress. She would get cold so easily that she practically buried herself to stay warm. No Scroll.

That left the bookshelves. I checked the shelves themselves, but nothing stood out. I checked to see if any of the books were resting on top of the Scroll, but none were. Just when I thought I had to search each book individually, Obsidian cried out. He was standing on the middle row of the fairy tale shelf. He pecked at one of the books a few times before he seemed to grab something. He pulled and revealed, from between two thick volumes, my mother’s Scroll.

“Obsidian, that’s it!” I scooped him up and hugged him to my chest. He didn’t make a sound or protest. I set him back down and tried to turn on the Scroll. The battery was dead. Of course, it hadn’t been charged in years. “That’s okay,” I told the avian Grimm. “My mom showed me a trick. Watch.” I reached into my pocket and pulled out a small Lightning Dust crystal. I sent my Aura through it, and sparks of electricity began to jump from the crystal. I held the crystal to the charging port and channeled the energy into the device. It was precise work, a testament to Aura control and familiarity with using Dust. In seconds, the screen began to glow as the battery was powered. “Yes!” I cheered as Obsidian watched.

I held the Scroll horizontal so I could press the crystal to the port while still using my thumbs to touch the screen. I clicked on messages as Pemphredo had told me. I scanned through them without noticing much of anything. A few from my father, others from who must have been her friends, general Huntsmen alerts. Nothing unusual. Until I came across one particular person.

What stuck out to me was that the name was anonymous, but the subject line wasn’t some advertisement or of the sort. It was labeled Dear Flower. I scrolled through the rest of the messages, and others with the same label popped up. I clicked on one, and an enormous chain opened. Those recurring messages were all under one file. I clicked a button and started from the beginning.

“My dearest Flower,

How I’ve missed you these last few months. Since you visited Atlas, I find that my days have grown dull and uneventful. I wish to hold you again and to feel your embrace. I know my actions may seem scandalous, but I have never felt that alive as when we were together. If you feel the same, please tell me. If you do not, I understand. Just know that I will await your response with an anxious heart.”

I was confused. This must have been meant for someone else. The message just doesn’t seem like it would be directed at my mother. I was about to dismiss it before I noticed that she had replied.

“I have read your message and felt the emotions you have put into it. And I can say with a clear heart and mind that I feel the same. When we were together, I felt like I was young and that I could feel the sky. It was a wonder that I hadn’t felt in a long time. I know your fear for I have it too, but rest assured that I am not afraid. We have both fallen into a ravine from where there is no easy escape. I wish to feel that free with you again.”

No… No. that just can’t be. My mother couldn’t have been doing this. It’s just... it’s just not her!

Obsidian flew to my shoulder and watched as I read through the messages. They went on for two years with their affectionate responses. They went on and on. The shock was nothing that I could ever imagine, a piece of a puzzle that simply didn’t fit correctly. My mother had an affair with someone from Atlas. She cheated on my dad. This has to be what Pemphredo meant. She knew about the affair, and that means my father does as well. Is that why he never talks about mom? Because of this? There has to be more! This can’t be the only answer.

The messages suddenly took a shift, and my gut churned. My mother had sent this to her lover in Atlas.

“My dear, I have urgent news to tell you.

Since my last visit to Atlas, I had fallen ill for a time. When I went to the doctor, they told me I was carrying a child-

No…

“-and was only a few weeks along. In that time, my husband and I had drifted apart and hadn’t been with each other. That means that this baby that I’m carrying-”

No…

“-is yours.”

I dropped the Scroll onto the carpet. I was going to vomit. This can’t be true. It just can’t be! It’s not right! My mother wouldn’t have an affair! She wouldn’t get pregnant with someone else’s child! She and my father were in love! I’m their kid from blood and bone! I’m not a stranger’s child! I’m not-

“You’re no child of mine.”

It all came together so clearly that my head spun. That’s why he said that. I wasn’t his child, and he knows it. I’m the child of Auburn Harvest and some stranger across the sea.

Numbly, I picked the Scroll back up and continued to read. My mother and this man must have debated over a call or in-person because the next message was about what they would do now that they had figured out that I was his. The two of them would go on like always, pretending to not be acquainted, while my mother passed me off as her husband’s child. Without pushing back, my mother agreed.

The messages were dated further and further apart. My mother kept reaching out, and the man would pacify her with a few sweet words and admissions of affection. The man didn’t ask to see my pictures. Didn’t care about my well-being. It was a mistake that he wished would simply vanish, even if he wouldn’t write it down. This process went on and on until the messages suddenly stopped altogether. The last one was dated a few days before my mom’s final mission.

He must have seen these. My father must have found the messages after my mother died. Their relationship was on threads when the affair happened. When I came, I kept them together. I was the glue that kept our family in place. Why did I never question how my parents had separate rooms, or why they usually took me out separately? I didn’t notice the fractures we had until they were shoved in my face.

And then my father, I can’t even call him that now, had read these messages and found out how my mom had lied for so long, about something so important. About me. That’s why. That’s why he hates me! He doesn’t see me as the kid he made laugh; I’m the bastard of the man who his wife picked over him. The cold distance he put between us wasn’t because of my mother’s death. It was because of how much he resents her and me because of her.

“If you want someone to blame, blame your mother.”

Pemphredo was right. She was so right.

“It’s my mom’s fault,” I said to no one. “She left me here, with a man that hates me because of her. Because of her, I’m stuck with Pemphredo and Enyo and Deino! She and whoever that other man is! I’m being married to a man, another powerful and wealthy Atlesian, because of them.”

When the words spilled out, I felt something deep inside me. It rumbled, growing and growing with each angry thought that filled my head. It burned.

“It’s all of their faults!” I screamed as loud as I could. The happy memories with my mom in this room, of her rocking me to sleep, of the flowers and soil, suddenly turned bitter. She had lied to me! “I’m here, in this fucking prison, because of all of them! The heartless and petty man I thought was my father! That privileged Huntress and her horrible daughters! Those powerful men in Atlas leaving me in the dirt, one who abandoned me and the other who wants me as a prize!” The temperature was rising. I felt sweat beading on my skin. “And my cheating, lying, selfish mother! It’s their fault! It’s their fault that I can’t choose anything! I’m here because of all of them!”

My rage spilled over, but the burning inside me couldn’t break out. Instead, I was once again crying. “Because of them! Because of them! I can’t do anything because of them!”

I must have raged and cried for hours. I heard the car in the distance. I don’t want to see them! I don’t want to be near any of them!

I ran, Obsidian flying close behind me. I tore through the halls, abandoning the subtle, quiet steps I had learned. I was out the back door and tearing across the yard to my cabin. I threw open the door and slammed it shut once Obsidian flew in. I was breathing heavily, more from anger than exertion. I tried to still my breath, but I saw what was around me in a whole new light.

I was in a shed. I used to have my own room in the mansion with a soft bed and toys I loved to play with. I’ve spent years stuck out here in this shed, outcast for things outside of my control. I don’t have my own clothes, only Enyo’s discarded articles. My bed is a pile of ragged blankets and a flat pillow thrown on the ground. I have a pile of books that were thrown out since I couldn’t get any others! I’ve been bruised on almost every bit of my body! My bones have been broken! My blood has been spilled! For what? Other people’s problems? Their messed up emotions and enjoyment? What kind of existence is that!

I saw them. The pictures of my mother pinned to my walls. Her smiling face stared back at me. It burned! “Don’t smile at me! You left me here! You abandoned me, you stupid Huntress! You said you loved me, but you left me with them! I’ve been hurting for years because of you! Why did you do this to me? Why were you just like them? Why couldn’t you have been different and thought of me instead of yourself?” I tore the pictures off their pins and ripped them. Then again, then again. I ripped them into the smallest shreds I could. “Why did you lie to me? Why did you do this to me?”

The shreds fell to the ground unceremoniously. The burning sensation had returned, but I couldn’t figure it out! I wanted to break everything apart, but I felt like I was breaking. What am I supposed to do? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?

I fell to my hands and knees. Tears fell as my teeth clashed. I wanted to tear myself apart!

I was staring directly into two solid, red orbs. Obsidian was watching me like he always does.

“What am I supposed to do?” I asked him, my voice broken beyond repair. “What do I do?”

He gave me no answer. Instead, he pressed himself against my chest. I wrapped him up and held him close. He was the one thing in this world that hadn’t abandoned me. My Grimm, my little monster. He stayed with me.

“Thank you,” I told him through sobs. “Thank you. Thank you.”

I thanked him until I broke down completely in sobs. Obsidian didn’t move. He let me hold him, a bundle of soft feathers with a mask of bone. A monster, a creature of Grimm. My only salvation. I held him until I cried myself to sleep