counts
By now, Rogue recognizes the scientific formula denoting the Cure. She doesn’t understand the charts he’s drawn with time tables and dosage amounts.
“Sugah?”
Remy whirls around, blinking at her. He hands her the paper. She looks at it, confused. At the bottom circled are the words two years.
She stares.
Her wish. Two years. Two children.
“Counting.”