22 | Blaze

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"My dear," my father whispered, "I know that you have been through a lot, but I really need to take you somewhere to talk things out with someone."

I furrow my brows in curiosity. "Who?"

He sighed. "If I tell you, you might back out," he explained in his thick Italian accent. "You just have to trust me. Come with me now."

Matteo -- Dad -- started pulling me but I stopped him, grabbing his wrist and moving away. "What about school? I have classes till three-fifteen."

"I shall take care of them all. Now follow me."

We both crossed the room and into the secret door where Andie, María, and Mr. Corsemithe used to go out a while ago. "I wasn't planning on doing this," Dad continued, walking a few inches ahead of me, "but I believe that it is time that you know everything, and that you have a right to all this. I cannot let my daughter suffer more than she is now." I gulped. I didn't like the sound of this, but I trusted my father.

"Does that person you want me to talk with know that you'll take me there, wherever it may be?" I queried, stumbling on my feet a bit, trying to follow my father's long strides that munched up the carpeted floor, headed to a narrow hallway.

He looked over his shoulder and shook his head. "No. And even if that person would be very angry for taking you to his place, I still want you to talk to him."

"Was he involved in my past?"

"Yes."

"Who?"

"You'll see."

Dad didn't say anything further than that, so I just went silent, following him around. As we reached a slim door, he nodded gravely to a guard standing by, telling him to open it. As soon as it swung open, Dad and I walked down twenty steps of cold stone floors, spiraling down to a garage, similar to Van Allens' private one. Only my father's was bigger. There were old carriages from the oldest to the slightly modern. As if he read my mind, seeing my gaze on them, he chuckled and said, "The carriages I used before." There was one carriage that attracted me. I went near it, opening the antique door. Blue velvet cushions, blue velvet curtains, gold painted sills. "I believe you remember that carriage," he went on.

I turned around to look at him. "1470. Anne and I used this to travel to Yorkshire with out maid Nina."

He nodded. "It's the very one. All of my old vehicles have been well-cared for these past centuries. Brings so many memories to me."

"Dad," I said awkwardly, still unused to my new title for him. He immediately snapped his head up to look at me with shining olivine eyes. "Do-do you know what happened to Anne?"

He took a deep breath, shaking his head. "We have not seen her after you and her fought. Your mother and I always had a feeling that there was something dark inside Anne's soul, but we still loved her. We were tormented by her loss, but we couldn't do anything. Though she was gone, we had you. I have you. There are only the two of us now, my poppet."

"But Dad," I said shakily, "I don't think it's just the two of us this time."

"What do you mean?" He came near me, placing his large hands upon my shoulders.

"I believe Anne is still alive."

He didn't look surprised. "I know. She has come back. You told me once that she visited you long ago. You said that she told you she would come back to kill you. I did not doubt her for a second. She is capable of doing that, though it pains me to know. I knew it way before you two even fought that she would eventually turn dark. We just didn't know that it would be so soon when she turned twelve."

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