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you say my father is a kidnapper. And let's not forget, oh yeah, Lord of the Underworld." It sounds silly coming out of my mouth.
    "Yep, that pretty much sums it up." He’s nonchalant about it.
    "I’m sorry, but how do you expect me to believe that my birth parent are Hades the King of the Underworld and Persephone his captive? It just all sounds so…"
    "Mythical?"
    "Yeah, pretty much." I sigh and sit on the edge of the bed. This conversation is giving me a headache. I want to not believe him, but something is itching at the back of my brain, and I can't ignore. How can an entire group of people collaborate to concoct a crazy story to cover up murder. It just doesn't make sense.
    "Um, can you stop doing that?"
    I look up in surprise. "Doing what?"
    There is a crash, and I look to see a potted plant that fell off of the counter.
    "That." He points at the pot unnecessarily.
    "What do you mean, that? I’m sitting over here with you."
    "Be that as it may, my plant didn't just grow three feet and topple to the floor of its own volition, now did it?"
    "What the heck are you talking about?"
    "OK, do me a favor and just hear me out. Your mother is Persephone, right? That makes your grandmother, Demeter. Both of which had powers pertaining to…"
    "Plant life," I interject.
    "Yes, very good. Now what were you just thinking about?"
    "Strange enough, I was thinking about how it made more sense to believe you, rather than that a whole slew of people were concocting a fairy tale to cover two murders."
    He walks over to the plant and picks it up. "First of all, it’s myths, not fairy tales." He pulls a new pot from under the counter and places the plant in its new home. "Second of all, you will believe me after the little experiment I have planned shows you what you are capable of. Now," he sets the plant on the counter, "make it grow."
    Seriously? Did he think I was Thumbelina now? "Excuse me? You want me to make it grow?"
    He nods.
    "And how do you suppose I do that? I pull out my magical pixie dust or do the rain dance?"
    He scowls. "Stop it. Those things are made up. You, however, are not. I want you to sit and think about the plant growing. Think about nurturing it."
    I sigh and decide, why the hell not? If it would get him off my back and prove I didn’t knock his stupid plant over, fine. I look at the plant and try to imagine it growing. Nothing. I squint my eyes like the witches on TV do. Nothing. Gloatingly, I look at him. "See, I told you I didn’t knock over your plant."
    He’s disappointed. “I could have sworn it was…" he stops abruptly. "I have a better idea. You were working through things in your mind, not focusing on the plant. You were focusing on solving a puzzle, so to speak. Try to think about a problem."
    I turn back to the plant. Why am I placating him? OK, so what problem should I think of? This is stupid. I had other things to worry about, like where I’m going to live. I guess being a ward of the state won’t be too bad, or maybe I can emancipate… Crash! The plant falls again and this time I see it.
    My eyes must be bugging out of my head because he laughs a little when I look at him. How in the world did that just happen? The plant literally grew a foot making its top too heavy to stand up straight. I start hyperventilating, "Oh my god, how did I do that? What’s wrong with me? I am a freak, aren't I?"
    He puts his hands on my shoulder. "Breath, this is normal."
    I cut in, "On what level do you think any of this is normal? My parents were murdered, I'm the offspring of mythical beings, and in a random dude’s house making a plant fricking grow!"
    He waits until my rant is out. "This is normal for someone like you , now just breath. I wonder…" he muses more to himself.
    "You wonder what?"
    "Nothing. It’s not important right now, what’s important is you have a…" he searches for a word "…skill that we need to keep under control. You might be able to use it to your advantage. We will have to