Megan could tell that her mother was tense, her mother had been tense since she’d arrived really, which Megan had previously chopped up to the fact that she had been so injured that it worried her mother. But then when Hestia shifted in tone, and asked her to sit, Megan began to rethink this. Had something happened? Should she be worried. Megan chewed her lip gently, almost a mirror of her mum as she sat down, her hands folding gently into her lap.
Megan heard the words, but it had taken several quiet moments for them to sink in. Her father was here. Father. The man who she didn’t know. The man who’d died before she was born. The man who had seemingly upset her mother so much, that even giving her daughter a name seemed to hurt her. Megan took in a shaky breath.
“I…” Megan let out slowly. Did she want to know him? What if he wasn’t… what she’d envisioned. What if he didn’t like her? “Who is it?”