#elsewhere

"You don't think they would take her to learn the ways?"

She accepts the phone with trembling hands. "She is..." A hideous raisin. A squalling, sticky mess. Gooey. Wrinkled. "...she is perfect. And she lives. Glory be to sand and sea."

"I think maybe Omario McKenly has her?"

"She's safe. But she would be better at home, right?"

Recalling what their snooping revealed

"Your brother, is the one you gave your skin up to?"

She takes a step back. "Omar? How do you know him? Did he come here?" Looking around now.

"I wasn't at the hospital. Someone came. Maybe him. One of the Red Fin."

"You're not listening... he's not here, but he might have been. He may have stolen your baby. "

Gwen says this slow, and calm. Trying to help the distressed mother focus

She slowly sinks into a seat at the breakfast bar. "It is a lot to take in." Then, focusing on something that Thistle said. "You... you will go find her?"

She nods. "We have a lead. As... as her sister, I have a claim, right?"

She nods, slowly. "I would. I would go... but they know I cannot." A frown. "I have not spoken to my... to the red fins, since I left the islands."

"is there any chance that the skin is destined to return to your line? that one day your daughter might inherit what you surrendered?"

"Are you sure you can't go? I could keep you enchanted..."

Gwen isn't sure Thistle could. They need a hold to go to to even have a chance

"It is not that. Even if I wished it, and sometimes, I have... I cannot go home again. The islands, Bright Paradise, is closed to me. There is a geas, preventing my return." She lowers her head. "I would risk it, even should the blood boil in my veins or all my water turn to salt tears, but then how would I help anyone?"

"Oh no, we're not screwing with geasa." Then she tries again "is there any chance that the skin is destined to return to your line? that one day your daughter might inherit what you surrendered?"

"But... but why? Why keep you from visiting at all?"

"I do not know. It is quite possible? Any treasure s touched by the dreaming, and a selkie's coat is a treasure beyond any other. But if they had but waited until she was of age, and asked..."

Though, she looks a touch unsure. Maybe she would not have, maybe she would have clung to her daughter and spoken ill of those who cast her out... who can tell?

Gwen has a theory on why Janice was geased not to come back. Tribes can be very touchy about those who walk away.. renounce their ways

But that sounds too much like blaming the victim

"Mostly what we have are glimpses and speculation but we do know your daughter is alive. ANd where there is life there's hope"

Brows furrow, squinty face. "Do they even know the baby has a kithain sister? Half-sister, but... I mean, it's not been a year yet."

She shakes her head. "I do not believe so. I tried - at first, I tried to keep in touch. I sent letters... they were returned unopened. My brother, he is fiery hearted, even the touch of the sea would not cool his anger, it seems. He has not forgiven me still, for leaving."

Makes a point not to like Janice's brother

He's on the list.

Oh no, the expensive coffee is getting cold.

"Coffee, Janice."

"Want me to heat that up?" Alarmed. The woman has lost so much already

"So they were mad at you for leaving, for picking Dad."

"No, no, the heat will destroy the flavor..." Sounding for a moment like old Janice, as she sips the mug.

Her lips purse tightly together. "...I betrayed our ways, and put our people at risk, for a mere mortal man, not even island-kin."

"Nothing mere about Greg, or you wouldn't have fallen in love with him"

Thinking of Chuck, a WHITE son of Adam for a Native AMerican troll girl. A bit of melancholy on her. Adam is at Baylor now

"But there's Frankie..."

A small smile at her son's name. "Trina, Thistle... Frankie is a boy. Consider... if your soul, your true fae self, had come to you, as a man? It is not never done, but most often, we pass down - mother to daughter, aunt to niece, grandfather to grandson..."

Gwen blinks

"At least, it is so, in my Clan."

"It may be tradition, but... it is what we know, and perhaps some things, if tradition long enough, become truth."

"Oh..."

"That's why. You passed it off to a man. YOu broke the usual custom. So that custom is a threat.. that tradition. You're guilty in their eyes but your daughter wouldn't be. She might be the rightful heir. He might think Fate is involved even if it isn't. And then htere's the social pressure. Folks may EXPECT him to turn it over to her"

"I did not pass my skin on. It was taken from me." She protests, firm on this point. Then, biting her lip. "I gave it up. I Chose."

"They made you give it up?"

"Wait.. taken... but a choice? that.. sounds oxymoronical"

"Omario has his own skin, he would not seek mine. " She shakes her head, clarifying that point.

"You may not understand. It is our way. I could have chosen to stay, and remain... who I was. I chose to leave, and in doing so, my skin was forfeit."

"Your family is made of assholes. Like, a great cluster of sphincters. Like - you can't go where you want? I mean, fine, maybe you would have needed to settle downstate instead..."

"Greg would never have left you." She says, quietly. "I know. I asked him, once, if he would stay... " She winces a bit. It was clearly a conversation they only had ONCE.

"But WHO did get your skin? " Curious now