“…Alright, yes. That’s what I’m afraid of—that the cats will jump the patrol and come straight here, thinking we’ll be more vulnerable. I don’t want to take any more risks. Are you sure you’re feeling okay? Your arm, I mean. I’d like to check those bandages,” he said, and his voice truly sounded worried.
“I’m fine, I already told you. Really. Hans helped me, he was very kind.”
“Alright.”
At last he let go of my elbow and brought his hand to his lower back. He hesitated—I could tell. He didn’t quite know what to do next, or rather, he didn’t quite know what to do with me. Then he showed me the gun he had hidden in the waistband of his jeans, the one Rex had left him. I shuddered when I saw it, and my first reaction was to protect the baby’s head with one hand.
He offered me the grip of
