47
LYNNE
I lay awake in the darkness, trying to make sense of everything that was happening to us. Connor was conceived by in vitro. But a superhuman? No. Perfect? No. None of it added up. Something was missing from the equation.
But what?
Then it hit me.
The prophet shall come forth from the island of the angels….
Ex insula Angelorum. England.
He must find hope before he can give hope to others…
Connor doesn’t believe…
Dear God, is it possible?
I stared at the laptop monitor, looking up as Connor emerged from the bathroom, yawning. After a week of sleepless nights, he’d finally managed to sleep for almost ten hours, but he still looked as though he could barely keep his eyes open.
“What are you doing up so early?” he asked. “You should be resting.”
“I’m pregnant, Connor, not t
