“Desmond?” I said, pushing myself up slightly against the pillows despite how tired I was. “What’s wrong? What is it?”
He didn’t answer right away, still staring down at that small mark like it might disappear if he looked at it long enough.
“Desmond,” I said again, more firmly this time, real fear starting to creep into my own voice. “You’re scaring me. What’s wrong with her?”
“Nothing’s wrong with her,” he said quietly, finally looking up at me. “Nothing medical, I mean. It’s a birthmark. Completely normal. I just—”
He stopped, his voice catching.
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