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much…” Dr. Lockstad warns.

I nod. “Then I know what comes next.”

She smiles warily at me but dips her chin.

The nurse’s arms drop to her side, and she walks over to one of the cupboards on her right. “I’ll place them in here, just in case.”

The doctor nods at her but turns back to Wade. She checks him over once more, running through what looks like a well-worn sequence of checkpoints. As he relaxes back into a quiet state, I pull my hands from his arms and stand up straighter. My fingertips trace his arm, floating back to his hand.

“You will not believe how long the lines were down there. I had to fight off an old lady for the last bit of turkey….” Mom says, entering the room with a tray stacked high with an assortment of food and drinks. As soon as she takes in the scene, her eyes widen and she says, “What’s happened?”

I shake my head, holding back tears. Now that the danger has passed, the emotions swelling from the day’s events are ready to sweep me away. I don’t know how much more I can take.

“Just a little episode. We should be good for a while now,” Dr. Lockstad says, catching the eye of the nurses. With a quick head tilt toward the door, they excuse themselves and walk out. “Looks like you have some dinner plans. I’ll let the two of you relax a bit.” She pats my mom on the shoulder as she walks by.

“Thank you, Dr. Lockstad,” Mom says, but her eyes never leave me. When the door closes behind them, Mom asks, “Are you okay?”

I exhale a jagged breath, my eyes straying over to Wade. “Yeah, it was just…intense. He’s really fighting against whatever this is. I don’t know what to do. Or how to help him.”

“Was the situation with Dominic a bust?” Mom says, making her way to me.

“I don’t know, to be honest,” I say, shaking my head. I don’t know how much to tell her without freaking her out. “It was weird.”

Mom pulls a small fold-out table from a cubby in the wall and tips her chin. “Wanna help with this? Then tell me all about it.”

Doing as she asks, I walk over to the small table, lifting the tabletop up and snapping it into place. She sets the tray down and starts divvying up the items. “Well, it’s not quite the Christmas Eve dinner I had in mind, that’s for sure,” she says, placing the tray on the floor.

“That makes two of us.” I smile absently, shooting another glance at Wade.

Whatever fight was left in him has gone and he’s sunk back into the bed. I walk up to him, running the back of my hand across his jawline. I pull up the fabric from his hospital gown, then walk to my chair and tug it closer to the table. Mom grabs a second chair from across the room and does the same.

“Try the turkey. Hopefully it was worth the effort,” Mom says, clearly trying to keep things light.

Despite her best efforts, I just can’t seem to muster much enthusiasm for food. I push my plastic fork around the plate as I stare at the gelatinous potatoes and gravy.

“So, tell me, what happened with Dominic?” Mom asks, taking a bite of her turkey and making a face. She sets her fork down and opens a small plastic bag with cornbread inside.

I lean back in my chair, still a little apprehensive to be talking openly about any of this. After all these years, it’s hard to get past her previous aversion to anything in this supernatural world.

As if sensing my trepidation, she says, “I won’t bite. I promise.” She makes an x across her heart with her index finger.

I smile feebly, but after a brief pause, I say, “Dominic believes I’m a sin-eater.”

Her eyes widen and it’s clear instantly—the word means something to her.

Rather than having her interject just yet, I continue, “The only problem is, if I act on this idea, Abigail thinks I would be putting the baby in danger.” I poke at the green beans on the divided plate.

Mom’s eyebrows pucker in the middle and she leans forward. “And this is meant to help Wade somehow?”

I shake my head and shrug. “Honestly, I don’t know. It was all mixed up in messages about the Moirai’s curse. He seemed to think it was the key to ending it all. But the curse isn’t even what I’m worried most about right now. Obviously.”

“Hmmm,” she says, tapping at the table with her fingertips.

“What is it?” I ask, narrowing my gaze.

Her hazel eyes flash with intensity. “Maybe nothing.”

“No, you can’t do that. Spill it,” I say, lowering my eyebrows.

She stands up, walking over to Wade’s bedside. With her right hand, she pulls back the fabric of his hospital gown. “I’ve been thinking a lot about this. You said it was a mark of expulsion, right?”

I nod. “That’s what the Angel of Death said.”

Her lips press into a thin line and she shakes her head. “It’s just not sitting right with me.”

“Why?” I ask, setting my fork down.

She inhales slowly. “I don’t know of any parent who would actively put their child in harm’s way. Not any decent one, anyhow.”

“I don’t think he had a choice,” I mutter. “He was pretty clear that necromancers and Angels of Death were unmixy things.”

“Hmmm,” she repeats, her eyes distant.

Her questions and thought process spark a new hope inside of me. What if the Angel of Death saw this coming? Whatever this is. And if she’s right…maybe that means his father put in a safeguard. Something that might help me save Wade after all.

“So, what are you thinking then?” I ask.

She walks back to me, sitting down in her chair. “I’m not sure yet. But I’ll do some digging.”

Exhaling slowly, I nod. As much as I hope his father wouldn’t do this to hurt Wade, I also know what it looks like. If appearances tell

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