“Not quite yet,” I say with another chuckle. “I’m only a little over eight weeks along, and according to the textbooks, they can’t hear until twenty-three or twenty-four weeks. Yasmin’s been on my case about cleaning up my language, but I guess we’ve got time until it matters.”
“Holy s**t then,” decides Sage. “Does he know? Does he know about the baby?”
“And he’s still being a controlling dickhead who wants to exile us all off to God-knows-where?”
Sage growls low in his chest. “Typical. Absolutely f*****g typical.” He sighs again. “He’s scared, isn’t he? That’s why he’s being like this.”
“If you ask me, I’d say he’s pissing-his-pants terrified. But, y’know—in a very Bastian kind of way.” I rub at my sore knees and stretch my legs out in front of me. “For what it’s worth, I’m scared, to
