The word monster sat between us like a bucket of ice water dumped over my head.
I took another step back, hitting the edge of the mother-of-pearl table so hard that a silver bowl of figs rattled. "I am not a monster. I'm just a person who got dragged into your family drama."
"A person," Thalassa repeated, as if the concept was both charming and deeply pathetic. She glided past me, her gown of living water rippling in silent waves that never spilled a drop on the floor. "Is that what Zerephytrael told you? Did he tell you that you were special, Amara?"
My hands tightened into fists at my sides. "His name was Zaine. And he didn't have to say anything. He was my dad."
"He was an architect," Thalassa said, turning to look at me with those cold, abyssal eyes. "And you were his contingency plan."
The air in the room grew heavy, pushing down on my shoulders with the weight of an entire ocean.
