"Honestly. I was very angry with you Kiara. Really angry.," he said. "I didn't want to see your face. I meant it at the time. But lately I realized something. Whenever my father goes out to track you, Mira gets quiet and sick with worry until he walks back through the door. The same thing happens when I leave for the academy or outside. She waits. She keeps food warm. She listens for the door."
He paused, choosing the next words with care.
"I have a mother who does that. A home. Family at the table. Hot food that tastes like someone cared enough to make it. And I realized that exact thing was stolen from you. I can understand how deep the anger would go. I was selfish. I kept thinking about what you did to me and not enough about what you were carrying. So…"
The smile edged a little wider, touched with real apology.
"Sorry, Kiara. I might have been a bit too angry at you."
As he spoke, something heavy in his chest loosened and left.
