Fifteen
GRAY
Time slowed to an impossible crawl as we waited for Deirdre to prepare her tea, my sisters and I perched on the edges of our chairs, desperate to hear the rest of the story.
My mind was swirling with possibilities, none of them good.
By the time Deirdre rejoined us at the table, the only thing I knew for certain was that nothing she revealed, nothing she said, nothing she did would ever come between me and my sisters again.
“Your matrilineal ancestors lived in what we now know as Ireland,” Deirdre began, and my sisters drew closer to me. I reached for each of their hands beneath the table, clasping them tightly, making physical the connection I’d already been feeling. Magic hummed in their veins, calling out to mine as we touched, wrapping us all in a blanket of support a
