Ella
“What do you mean, it was a memory?” Sinclair asks carefully. “I thought the priests came to you in the orphanage? I don’t remember anything about humans attacking you in the woods.”
I stare at my lap, cradling my belly and trying to figure out how to explain my deceit. I knew this conversation was inevitable – I even prepared for it, but these are not the circumstances I expected. I didn’t imagine I would be so emotionally fragile, or that Sinclair would be wrapped around me purring, fresh off of rescuing me from a traumatic nightmare. I thought I would be able to present my case and apologize, acknowledging my wrong doing with confidence and strength of conviction. Now I fear it’s going to tumble out as a mess of excuses and tangled feelings.
“Ella?” Sinclair presses, his voice t
