“Nana, what were my parents like?” I asked Nana while we were preparing her grandson’s favorite snack. It was the day after the incident with Julio and my body was still sore, but I insisted on watching her and helping her prepare it. It was for Sean, my savior.
She put down her spatula and looked me in the eye.
“Hmmmm… let’s see,” she picked up a slice of apple and layered it on the filling she just fixed on the crust.
“Your mother is beautiful and kind. In fact, she is one of a kind. She differed from us all, yet she was more of a wolf than any of us.”
“Different, but the same?” the ten-year-old me asked in confusion.
“Yes. She was special and your father saw that. He saved her from the lonely tower where she was captiv
