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“Better tell them,” Miss Worthy says, looking at my adoptive parents.
Her words take a moment to sink in and then I whirl on her. “You know who I am? But… But you almost kicked me out of here twice. You said I had the mark of an Apollinari. You had no idea.”
Miss Worthy shakes her head at me and keeps her gaze on Father. “If you don’t tell her, then I will.”
“Tell me what?” I breathe.
She finally turns back to me. “You do have the mark of the Apollinari. It took me a while to realize. You are an Apollinari.”
I stare at her. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I dug out information on you. Put two and two together. I couldn’t stand it, not knowing where you sprang from. You are the lost daughter of Helene Apollinari, Jeremiah Apollinari’s stray sister. This man here. Am I right, Mr. Apollinari?”
I gape at my adoptive Father, who as it turns out is anything but. “You’re myuncle?”
“Yes,” he forces the word out, glaring at the secretary.
Not sure how I am feeling right now, caught somewhere between shock and relief and anger. I now find myself walking toward them, energy buzzing in my veins. “And where is my mother?”
He lifts his hands, palms up. “She’s dead, girl.”
“Some say she was killed,” Miss Worthy supplies.
“Enough,” Mother finally gets a word in. “Come with us.”
“No. Dead? How? And my father? Who is he? Where is he?”
“Nobody knows who your father is,” Father—no, myunclesays. “She never gave us the father’s name. Your mother was a slut. She—”
I pull my hand back and slap him. He catches my wrist after that, but magic is pulsing off me and he snatches his hand back with a curse.
“Never call my mother that, you liar.”
“She has magic,” Mother—my aunt—whispers.
“And she’s right,” Miss Worthy says. “You can’t take her out of the school. Even coming outside of a visiting day is against the regulations. Look—”
“Whatever,” my uncle says. “How did she end up studying here anyway? We never paid any fees.”
“About that,” Miss Worthy says, “Mia has—”
“Know what? I don’t care.” My uncle gets up, my aunt rushing to follow suit. “Have it your way. You just told her what we tried to protect her from all her life, let her use magic when we did our best to give her a normal life.”
“A normal life?” I laugh. I think I’m becoming hysterical. “In the Church? Beating me when I didn’t scrub the floors properly? With nobody to talk to but my cousin?” Another thought strikes me. “Huh. Sheismy cousin after all…”
“I’m sure she’ll be fine here,” Miss Worthy says. Right now she is my hero. “Don’t concern yourselves. As for magic, it always wants out. In such a strong magical line, it would have surfaced sooner or later. Better let it out little by little than have her burn an entire neighborhood if she gets angry one day.”
“Like her mother did,” my uncle says.
I stare at him. He glares back. “What do you mean?” I whisper.
“Magic is dangerous, Madeline,” he says and I’m still staring at his familiar, harsh face. “Remember that. And it’s not something you can really control, no matter what they tell you. Don’t meet your mother’s fate.”
“She died in that fire?” I whisper. “Is that what happened?”
“Come now, girl.” Miss Worthy walks around her desk and leads me away from my uncle and aunt—so strange to cast them in these different roles now—and out of the office.
“But—”
