“Honeybee, how’s the hospital going?” My dad peeked out from behind Ian’s bald head, and then I noticed what he had on his face.
There was only so much my heart could take.
A choked sound left my lips.
He had the same Band-Aid glued on his cheek, near his nose. Like Ian’s. Just so he didn’t feel different, like an outcast.
“Yvaine.” My father sent a soft warning my way.
I took a deep breath from my belly to calm down.
“Great, college is great. I have everything out of control. I mean, under control. Almost done studying for the biggest exam of the year, but I have to review everything again.”
I was in robot mode. Like with my patients at the cancer center.
“I’m proud of you. And your grandmother can’t stop reminding everyone how great it is to have a doctor in the family, and how youwillprescribe her free drugs.” We chuckled, and just like that, the mood was lighter.
Zeus pushed his cold nose into my arm.
“No more treats for you,” I scolded him. “Not after you ate all that garbage this morning!”
“Garbage? Someone ate Dark Diamond?” Dad semi-teased.
I sighed and flipped my braid over my shoulder. “Zeus knocked over the compost this morning while I was showering and feasted on two days’ worth of leftovers.”
“Ewww!” Ian made a cute face.
I stuck out my tongue. “And yet, he still acts like he’s starving to death.”
“Can I see him?”
I pushed Zeus up. His big eyes observed Ian, and his black nose touched the screen.
Ian did the same. I ignored Dad inconspicuously rubbing his eyes on his sleeve in the background. Alphas like him never cried, and when they did, you couldn’t see them. It wasn’t allowed.
“So, will you be at the game?”
Ah. That evil game. In one week.
“Can’t wait to see Alpha Carrion. My fists have missed his donkey face?—”
“Dad!” Ian whined as he covered my father’s face with his little hands, making me laugh out loud. “I’mtalking to Vy-Vy now!”
Dad sighed.
“Okay, okay, little Alpha. No need to be so violent. Jeez, you’re definitely your mother’s son,” he muttered, making us laugh again.
“Look, Vy-Vy!”
Ian showed me the new book he’d started during the week—Narnia—and talked about how he’d read it nestled inside his wardrobe, scaring Dad when he couldn’t find him anywhere. Then I had a serious chat with Dad, who told me about the news about Ian’s health.
It was the usual.
Brutal.
Unfair.
“Wait, Ian wants to tell you one more thing.” My dad handed the phone back to my brother.
