Ginny
Clementine said she had to tend to some things before she could show me some recipes. I went back to my room to read more of the diary that I had found. It was intriguing to read all about my mother’s secrets She had when she was my age.
My mother was a lot like me as a teenager. Smart-mouthed, angsty, complaining about her older brothers and the injustice of being the only girl. She wrote about her lessons, how much she hated the traditions here, and boys she had a crush on.
When my mom was about fifteen, she apparently met a dragon who believed her to be his mate. But based on his description, I don’t think it was my dad. Mom wrote about a tall, dark, and handsome man with blue eyes. My dad was tall but with light brown hair and green eyes and they didn’t meet until mom was almo
