Page 165 - What Is Not Yours Is Not Yours

fathers’ undisclosed dalliances may well cause the world around us to teem with

flesh of our flesh and blood of our blood, correspondences we may only
recognize subconsciously.
“Exactly what is he saying right now?” Tyche was talking to Ched and
looking at me. The voice of reason piped up in my ear, beige through and
through: Freddy’s lost his marbles. Lost them? What was this about loss? Ah
well—I’d found something I really, really wanted. It was my dearest wish that
Tyche and Chedorlaomer would believe my lie. If they believed me and shunned

each other, then I had won. If they believed me and stayed together, then . . .
well, that was another version also worth watching, even if it meant I’d lost. I
still think I might not have gone as far as I did if they hadn’t arrived coated in
that scent that drove me to frenzy.