Nefretiri
"What am I supposed to do?" I ask my daughter. We're sitting outside the ruined packhouse, getting some fresh air. "He said I was doing it, but I don't know what that means. We're trying to figure things out but don't know anything."
Penelope grunts at me in response to my question, and a bubble emerges from her nose.
"Hmm, I don't think that's helpful, my love," I smile, running my hand along her face. "Want to know a secret? You're the only thing that makes any sense to me."
Sadly, that's the truth. Not even my bond with Ivan is something I can fully comprehend. How can it be when so many people mess with it? So, yeah, the only thing in my life I can be sure of is Pen-Pen, and even that isn't without its strange questions. How is she here?
