Damian's POV
The word "child" kept ringing in my head.
A child. A child that didn't exist yet and Victor Bennett had already been calculating about it before Aria and I had fully acknowledged what we were to each other.
I read Cassian's note three times in the corridor.
I folded it, put it in my pocket and went to find her.
She was in the kitchen.
Yesterday's clothes. Hair loose. Both hands around a mug she wasn't drinking—just holding, like the warmth was the point. Staring at the window above the sink, the tree line still dark against the early sky.
She heard me come in, but didn't turn.
I found a mug. Poured coffee without asking—she'd stopped pretending she didn't want it three weeks ago—and slid it across to her.
She looked at it. Then at me.
"You read
