“Hunter, I’m sorry,” Evan whispered before he could stop himself.
Hunter smiled a little, his right cheek dimpling, making his face look even more grotesque with the asymmetry of it. “Don’t be sorry. Just—can you fix my face?”
Evan had only one answer. “We can. And we will.”
* * * *
Evan found himself thinking of the anonymous call and the fear that one single call put in him, and he thought he understood it when Hunter asked whether the surgery could be done at his home. That was out of the question of course and Jay had said no without any hesitation. It was on the tip of Evan’s tongue to reassure Hunter—You have nothing to worry about. You’ll be safe in our clinic—but he didn’t. Because really, how could he know?