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“I have a question for you,” I say

“Saston strokes my hair as I lean my head on his shoulder

“Why did you want to kill me?”

He stiffens “Atlas was really sick”

“What?” I interrupt him

He frowns as his thumb strokes my face “He was sick He isn’t anymore”

I exhale

“His adoptive parents at the time contacted you for help They didn’t have theto die, they thought you oodbye”

I scrunch my nose, completely confused by why he would want to kill me But I’m also heartbroken that Atlas was so ill

“They said you refused them You refused them money You refused to help with treatment You refused to see him”

I s the pain

“I hated you for it, hated you for leaving your son to die” He pauses “But looking at you now, I’m not sure how much I know is true”

I blink back tears He hated ret asking my question now, but I need to knohat his question is

“What was your question?”

His thumb traces the outline of my collarbone “Well, now, I have two One is, did you know that Atlas was sick? And two…” I can hear the pain and frustration in his voice “Are you pregnant now?”