“Alas, no,” he said, poignantly looking away, a masterclass in the portrayal of remorse. “We have done what we can, but she is still very much transformed, as much as it grieves me to say.”
“Will she ever go back to normal?”
He smiled again.
“Yes,” he said brightly, turning to look at her. “Yes, I think she will. With your help, that is.”
He sipped his coffee to disguise his smile, and felt no doubt, no shame, because this was undoubtedly the right thing to do for the betterment of the human race, and this child he hardly knew yet happened to be related to would not die, nor would her mother, but rather they would both live on in silent union with the thing that had reached out to them from beyond.
Poppy looked hesitant still.
“I…I don’t know if I’m ready.”
He nodded in an understanding manner.
“Often we are called upon to shoulder the heaviest burdens when we feel we are not ready. It is facing those challenges, and shouldering that weight, that makes us good people, Poppy.”