My Father My Mate
Drake
It was Zelda, her long, dark hair hanging loose around her shoulders. She was wearing a white nightgown, and one hand was clutching it tightly. Her face was pale, and her eyes were wide with fear. She glanced from me to Jake, her eyes filled with confusion.
Zelda walked towards us, her steps slow and measured. She stopped in front of me, her eyes never leaving my face.
“What are you doing in the store?” she asked, her voice trembling. “It's dusty.” I could see the dust settling on her nightgown, and I felt a pang of guilt.
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