Jesse led them all to a small coffee shop not far away, snagging a table for them away from the door. He joined the line and got coffees for everyone, then came back, took his seat, and simply said, "Go on, then."
Ceridwen sipped hesitantly at her coffee. "You remembered," she said quietly. "More milk, less sugar." Jesse didn't say anything.
She cleared her throat. "You all have a right to know, and I was going to tell all of you when you were older, but...my name isn't Denise. My name is Ceridwen, the Welsh goddess of inspiration. I met your father a long time ago, and I stopped my wandering for a while; I settled down and made a home with him. But he...he started to notice that I didn't age. He finally made me tell him the truth, and when I did, he...he beat me. I couldn't walk for two days. When I was up and around again, that was when he mandated that I had to leave. Or he'd drag our entire family through hell."
"That sounds like Dad," Isaiah said darkly. "Bitter as a lemon."
"He basically told me we'd stage an accident, and I'd be able to leave," she continued. "I was scared he'd kill me if I stayed, or he'd turn his sights on you boys."