“Luna…” the doctor whispers, eyes flicking nervously to the writhing figure on the sofa. “Maybe the men could… turn around while I check her?”
“Do what she says,” I order.
Caden, Dad, Matt, and Leo all spin like awkward schoolboys at a s*x ed class. Mum, of course, kneels beside Emma and starts easing her pain with slow, gentle hands and a steady stream of calming energy.
Even after everything this woman has done—after the betrayal, the poison she spat at her own child, after choosing power over people—Mum still chooses compassion. She’s unreal. Like, literally. An actual miracle in mum-form.
Emma, being the living sewage pipe she is, spits at her.
Right in the face.
And Mum? She just wipes it off, still soothing her like a rabid stray instead of the human garbage fire she is. Her st
