From my perspective, Ali might as well have said Dad had been bitten by the monster under the bed. Out of instinct, I snorted with laughter, but as Mom and Ali’s faces stayed streaked with tears, my smile slipped.

“Mom, that’s a rumour,” I said. “A stupid rumour.”

“I wish it was,” she said, wiping her cheek.

“Remember? When Jayce fell on the rocks by the river and got that cut on his stomach?” I said. It had been an accident when we were out scouting rabbit trails, but we’d thought we’d play a prank on everyone back home. “We came home crying and told everyone he got the mark and you said...”

“I said that because you were nine and you were lying.” Mom smirked despite the tears on her face.

“You told me there was no such thing! People made it up to scare kids, like the Sasquatch.”

“I told you that because no one needs to hear the child of a Displaced woman making jokes about Feizi’s mark. The council might get anxious,” she said.

“Someone’s making one hell of a racket out here.” Dad’s voice creaked as he pushed open the door to his bedroom.

“Sean, language,” said Mom. I didn’t get the impression “hell” was that bad of a word, but the council and most other respectable people looked down on profanity from the Old World. Using it meant announcing yourself as Displaced and there were a host of reasons not to do that. Dad just never cared. No need to care what people thought when you could twist their joints apart with your bare hands.

Even ill, he cut a terrifying figure. He stood head and shoulders taller than most men, his frame massive from years of hard labor hunting rift scars with Judd. Naturally pale, his current illness gave his eyes a bloodshot quality that made him resemble a winter wraith. Despite the circumstances, I smiled when I saw him. There was something about being the daughter of a behemoth that gave me a sense of serenity. Nothing could go wrong so long as he was around.

So long as he was around...

The smile fell from my face as he scanned the room. “You told the girls.”

“You’re supposed to be resting.” Mom took his hand when he placed it on her shoulder. “They were outside the window.”

“Thought I heard Shasta,” said Dad.

“They both were spying on us,” said Mom.

His eyebrows lifted. “Ali, I’m impressed.”

Her chin rose, like she didn’t think this a compliment. “I still want answers. How long have you known?”

Dad exchanged a look with Mom before answering. “A week,” he said finally.

I dropped Mom’s hand, my mouth falling open. My stomach squirmed, and I couldn’t tell if I was more angry or shocked. But Ali pressed through her questions like she’d prepared for the interview. “So you weren’t going to tell us? Shasta’s leaving in the morning, and for all we know, she’s coming back to a dead father in-”

“Ali, that’s enough,” said Dad. Ali nodded, as if she hated the thought of being disobedient, but a triumphant gleam shone in her eyes. Because it was enough. The few images her words had conjured were enough to force tears from my eyes. “Of course we were going to tell you. We wanted to find the right moment-”

“And what’s the right moment? The last minute?” I asked, rubbing my eyes, not sure I could believe him. They’d kept their mouths shut for a week already.

Dad shook his head, returning to Mom, who sat crumpled like a handkerchief in front of the fire. “Kenny and Cleo are going to be home soon. Why don’t you meet them and take them to the bakery? Buy some time for me to tell the girls.”

“We should really both...” Mom began, but Dad tipped her chin so that she faced him.

“You don’t have to.” He brushed a curl away from her face. “I can do this alone. You don’t have to talk about it.”

She nodded, eyes closing as she clutched Dad’s hand. It hit me that I hadn’t seen any hints that Dad had shed a tear over his illness. Just Mom. I crossed my arms over my chest to keep my anger from bursting out. If Dad was dying, he shouldn’t have to say that in front of his children without her supporting him. Even though she was meeting my younger siblings at school, as Mom slipped out the door, I couldn’t shake the feeling that she was running away.

The moment the door closed, Dad gestured to the kitchen table. “Sit down. Both of you.”