I swallowed slowly.
Permanent?I signed.
“For the pregnancy,” he repeated. “After delivery, your system should regulate. They don’t expect long-term organ damage. But the doctors are running labs to be sure.”
He reached for my hand again.
“You’re not poisoned,” he said quietly. “You’re just… different.”
That was a very Vinny way to say it.
“Not bad different,” he added quickly. “Just—” His mouth twisted. “I don’t know. More to love. Don’t look at me like that. I’m not meant to talk about this shit.”
Benji let out a quiet bark of laughter.
Vinny shot him a glare, then sighed and leaned closer.
“What I’m trying to say,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable, “is nothing is wrong with your body. It’s going to look different. Feel different. But no onethinks you’re gross, or ruined, or damaged, or anything like that. You’re just Violet.”
His thumb brushed lightly over my wrist, careful around the mark.
My chest did a weird flutter I wasn’t ready to deal with.
Good? I signed again.
Vinny hesitated.
Then, instead of answering, he tilted his head.
“Before we get to that,” he said carefully, “is there anything you’d like to tell us?”
I blinked.
Benji paused with the next bite of muffin halfway to my mouth, which irritated me more than I wanted to admit.
But Vinny was right.
My fist closed. I pressed it over my heart and moved it in a circle.
Sorry.
Vinny’s face fell.
His hand tightened around mine.
“No,” he said firmly. “No sorry.”
I frowned.
“Vi,” he said, voice low, “you don’t wake up from almost dying and start apologizing. That’s not how this works.”
Then his gaze sharpened, like he was trying to drag my brain back onto the track.
“While you were out, they did an ultrasound to make sure everything was okay.” He paused. “Do you have anything you want to tell us?”
Oh.
My brain stalled.
