"It's too bad," he says, shifting in obvious discomfort. "You would have made a great mother." His voice is low and hesitant and seems intended to be comforting. His eyes flicker, briefly, awkwardly meeting yours.
The color drains from your face and your eyes blaze fire. Your entire body stiffens and for a fraction of a second, you turn your face away, unable to even look at him. How dare he mock you!? Especially now, when your usual defenses against him are disabled by your agony. But of course he knows that, and, as usual, he is using that information to ridicule and...
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