Like I wasn’t.
And Great-Granddad Charlie was dark-haired, dark-eyed, tall, fit and handsome.
Like Battle.
Those were the only similarities.
I didn’t look like Harmony, and Great-Granddad Charlie didn’t look like Battle.
But Harmony didn’t resemble any of the other Talyns (and from perusing many pictures, this seemed a trait in that family).
More to the point, I looked not a thing like Great-Granddad Charlie. Neither did Mom or Solène.
I dropped the photos to the desk, telling Snowball, “Now I’m just looking for weird shit to get to me.”
Snowball had no response.
But I knew I was being stupid.
Nothing the least bit strange had happened since the cats tripped me into falling into Chassie’s room, and so much time had passed, I was now feeling like a huge dork that I thought there was anything weird about it.
I gazed out the windows at the rainy, dreary day (Prue told me May and September were usually very fine, but June, July and August were hit and miss, a lot of miss, and the weather was proving her right).
I was doing this gazing while trying to decide if I should go back to my laptop or call the house for an afternoon snack and a Fanta orange, when my phone vibrated.
It was Battle.
I took the call. “Hey.”
“Hey,” he replied.
My I’m-speaking-to-the-love-of-my-life antennae zinged at the tone in his voice.
Before I could ask after it, he asked his own question.
“Are you writing?”
“No. I was about to call to the house for a snack.”
“So I’m not interrupting?”
Oh yeah.
That tone was still in his voice. I’d just never heard him sound like that before—flat, dull—so it was tweaking me.
“Yes, I can descend into a book,” I reiterated. “Yes, it would annoy me if I was consistently interrupted while writing it. But no, even if I was writing, I’d want to hear from you just because I always want to hear from you. So…what’s up?”
“Mum rang.”
My head shook so violently at this news, I might have given myself whiplash.
But I couldn’t concentrate on having possibly given myself a neck injury.
“Your mother called you?”
“I haven’t heard from her in twenty-two years. But, yes. I just got off the phone with her.”
“Oh my God, Battle. What the fuck? What did she say?”
