Jasmine's POV
"Your mother?" I kept my voice soft, concerned. The perfect response.
Christopher's jaw tightened. "She's ill. Very ill." He looked down at his plate, and I watched him arrange his features into the right expression. Grief. Worry. Desperation. "The healer wolves tried can't do anything for her. You know they can only do so much, my love."
I said nothing. Just waited.
"It's Wolfa Ratinia," he continued, his voice dropping. "Do you know what that is?"
Of course I knew. I'd lived with it for four years. Blind. Disfigured. Destroyed. Abandoned and played with like a toy.
"Yes," I said quietly. "It affects the eyes first."
"She's losing her vision." His hand reached across the table, finding mine. His thumb traced circles over my knuckles. "The healers tried everything. The
