I stay standing, not able to bear looking at his face. I don’t know what my father will do with the information I am about to give him, but I do know that I do not care. I’d rather be in prison, a captive of the Sons of Saint Druon, than try to live this lie another day. It’s eating me alive, I can admit that to myself now. There is relief in that, as well, the confession to myself.

There is no great father-daughter affection between us, and perhaps that will make this easier. I’m not shattering his image of a perfect daughter. He doesn’t know me at all. But it also makes it harder. I know the man across the room from me will offer me no comfort. He will not pat my back and tell me everything is going to be all right.

I don’t trust my father. He may be working with the Sons who tried to kill Finn. He may punish me for stealing the key. Worse, he could turn on me and betray me to the magical community at large for opening the veil in the first place.

All of these seemed big enough reasons to do this on my own, keeping my secrets from him.

But something inside me has snapped. I can’t do this on my own. I want his help, no matter the cost.

I’m staring at a cliff, but it’s one that’s loomed large in my mind for a while now. There is nowhere else to run; I have no choice but to jump.

So I take a breath.

And I tell my father everything.

There are so many places to begin the story: the day a pair of scissors flew into a man’s neck, or the day I spoke to a dead boy in a basement, or the day my feet hit the shores of France. Perhaps it began the day I was born, that I’ve always been hurtling toward this very place in time, on a track I can’t turn off of.

But I begin the night my brother went missing. The night my own soul shattered completely. I’ve tried so hard to glue it back together. It’s shameful to lay it out in front of my father, evidence of what a poor job I’ve done of it.

“He didn’t come home from work like he promised he would….” My voice is small. I sound so young.

My father’s eyes are wide, and it is the first time I truly see the resemblance between us.

For once, he pays attention to me. He doesn’t glance at the clock or fiddle with a stale cup of tea.