“Do you want me to tell you you’re special?” She raises an eyebrow.
“Am I?”
“No.” She exhales through her nose. “I don’t feel anything special in you, so tell me why you’re here.”
My shoulders sink at her words, and in an attempt to hide it, I begin to speak with confidence. I describe everything that’s happened recently—my problems healing, the fever, the experience in the garden when I lost some of my senses and then recovered them.
She bursts into laughter when I finish telling her how Cassian’s doctor couldn’t find a solution or explanation.
“Of course he couldn’t.” She holds her belly, as if laughing too hard had hurt her. “What’s happening to you is magical, not scientific.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let me check something.”
She’s as quick as the animal she shares traits with. Her
