“Honestly, I’ve lost count.”
“How many have been changed?”
“A little more than a dozen.”
“And the born ones. They're different. Like their mother?”
I nod. “Yes, a test to see how the babies, how a hybrid, might be changed by the elixir.”
He shakes his head and peers back at me. His expression holds wonder and astonishment but also trepidation. There’s knowledge there, too, about why this experiment is important to me.
“Like I said. I’d need an eternity to discover all the facets of you.”
“I’m really not that interesting or complicated.”
He reaches forward and pets Talbert. A moment later, he holds out his hand to the other bunnies, venturing closer. “You might believe that, but it’s wholly untrue.”
A white butterfly chooses that moment to fly in front of my face and land on a nearby red rose. Orán’s gaze follows it, and he shakes his head again.
“That”—I laugh—“is not my doing.” I don’t see his amusement, but I hear it in a low chuckle.
“I can see why you needed help. And why you can't disappear for days without someone managing this place.”
“Lila—”
He stands. “No, that’s not what I meant. It’s admirable, and it’s a lot of responsibility, and I'm glad you have someone here to help you. These creatures, I can feel their joy. They’re not simply existing here. They're happy here. The love they have for this place.” His gaze sweeps over the garden. He palms his chest. “I can feel what they feel, and it’s kind of a beautiful thing. Such peace that many creatures of this world never find.”
My mouth parts and words form, but nothing spills from my lips.
“This is why you’re fighting as hard as you are to see the world continue…because the end of it…means the end of this…of them.”
My gaze follows his, and I spare each animal and insect I can see a moment of contemplation. My chest warms as I relive all the memories I have shared with them. The day I found them. And for some, the days, weeks, months, and years we’ve shared. I can’t deny that’s a large part of it. But beyond these animals and insects with names and histories, there are so many humans with similar stories who deserve to live as they do.
“I can’t face a world where they and people like Lila don’t exist. I don’t want to.”
He comes to stand before me. He lifts my hands and brings them up to his mouth. The kiss he places on my knuckles is tender, the smallest of touches, yet maybe the most meaningful thing we’ve shared. He doesn’t argue or try to prove why it must be another way. He only nods once and says solemnly, “I understand.”
Not that I understand you or this, or why you’d think this way. It’s as if he’s saying all of those things, but it’s not with words. It’s the emotion in his eyes as he holds my gaze.
“Evil doesn’t exist here.”
“No. But it does exist.”
I can’t argue with that. I’ve seen it. I’ve fought against it. But I have to believe that it doesn’t overrule all of the good I see in the world.
“This is worth saving.”
He nods again and drops my hands to palm my cheeks. “It is.”
A grin tugs at my mouth. “Well, that’s one mystery solved.”
“One out of a countless number of others.”
I do roll my eyes this time as I pull away and get to work feeding the critters gathering at our feet.
As I work, I introduce Orán to each of my menagerie and witness firsthand that I’m not the only thing drawn to his presence.
Later, Lila joins us—not to work, but to settle into the rocking chair on the back patio, soaking in the sun as she reads one of the books from my cupboard. A smile finds me as her voice drifts over, soft with wonder. Every so often, I’ll glance back to see her rubbing a soothing hand over her belly.
