And the next day the doorbell went.
And the two of them were on the step, both crying.
"Please," he said. "Let us see her. This is important. If we don't, we're finished."
"You saw her. And then you put us out. Why are you here?"
And he went down on his knees and got hold of my dressing gown.
"You don't understand. I should have told you before you ever got pregnant."
"Then tell me now."
And Moira had his shoulder. "Edan. She won't understand—"
"No, Mam. She has to know."
And when he finally said it, I reached for the doorframe and my legs went.
And behind me my mother was saying my name and I could not answer her.
What he told me.
That there is something in his family, and that our daughter has it, and that he knew it the second he bent over her.
