Bry was looking worse. I cradled him in my lap, trying to feed him, and I knew he responded by reflex, not awareness. His eyes were red and bloodshot, a glassy sheen as if he were stoned. He stared off into space, not even recognizing me. He wasn’t quite talking yet, but he usually at least acknowledged me if only to point at his juice when he wanted more. Now he was like a zombie. Considering the demonic magic coursing through his little body, I feared he would soon become one. I swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to overwhelm me once again. I’d already broken down in the last twenty-four hours. I wasn’t going to do it again. Sam and Jezze stood nearby, watching me coax my son to eat. I glanced at them and then back at Bryony. “The bar was supposed to reopen to, but—“ “I’ll handle it.” Jezze was quick to offer. “You sure?” I hated leaning on her but it would take one worry off my mind.
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