Mercy
August was looking at her like he wasn’t sure what to think of her when Mercy announced that she knew her name. “You do?” he asked, as if he wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.
She nodded, not sure whether she should continue to think of herself as Mercy or use the name she was certain she’d been given at birth--by someone. She still couldn’t remember if she had parents or not, but she was certain of her name.
August cleared his throat. ‘Uh… what is it?”
“Mari,” she said quietly. “My name is Mari.”
August’s eyebrows knit together, and he exchanged a confused glance with his mother. “Mari?” he repeated. “Are you certain of that?”
She nodded. She wasn’t sure of anything else, but she knew that her name was Mari.
“If that’s the case, dear,” Isabella said, “why did
