"Can I ask you something?" she whispers.
I nod, dizzy with fear.
"Why are they so sharp? Your teeth…"
Fuck.
A direct question.
Impossible to avoid.
My hand lifts from the mattress to sign, still supporting my weight with my elbow and my other arm.
M-O-D-I-F-I-E-D… T-O... E-A-T.
She waits, sensing there's more.
C-O-M-P-L-I-C-A-T-E-D,I add, fingers stumbling over the letters.
Can't explain.
Don't have the ability.
Barely clinging to sanity right now.
Her hands leave my face.
I brace myself, waiting for her to push against my chest. To struggle.
To demand release from this cage of muscle and bone.
Then her palm finds my cheek again.
Turns my face back toward her with gentle insistence.
"Look at me," she whispers.
Can't.
Keep my eyes shut tight.
Steeling myself against the inevitable.
"Wraith, please."
The soft plea in her voice finally breaks through.
I open my eyes.
Meet her gaze with reluctance.
What I see makes no sense.
There's no horror.
No revulsion.
No disgust.
