"What are you talking about?" Dahlia couldn't help but ask her mother, overwhelmed by the news she just received.
Dahlia was not a believer and to her, prophecies were just stories made up to create a hero. And she was not ready to become a hero? Why? Because in movies, they win. But in real life? You have to die to be a hero. And at the current moment, she can't die.
Dahlia laughed, "Mom, I've always thought of you as the most reasonable person I've ever known," She wanted to laugh it off but the serious look on her mother's face said otherwise.
"No, listen to me, Dahlia," Her mother grabbed her hand tight, almost startling her, "When I was pregnant with you, Dahlia, I was so sick that I thought neither you nor I would survive. At one time, it got so bad that I passed out and the next I got myself, we were in the house of some healer,"
"A healer?" Dahlia frowned, "What healer?"
