Rue’s POV

“I don’t understand, Mom.” Iris’s small voice cut into my thoughts as I braided her long dark hair, looping the soft strands carefully.

Her hair was way thicker than most girls her age, wild and long. The bloodline she inherited from my dad made it exceptional.

“Why don’t you ever talk about him? My dad. Everyone in my class talks about their dads. Even Lucy says her dad brings her chocolates every evening.”

My hands stopped mid-way. The question wasn’t new, but ...