Kazou Kuroda woke with a start. The first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a pale yellow light across the sterile room. His body ached in places it shouldn't, the dull hum of a headache warning him of a sleepless night spent in the lab. A reminder of the long, sleepless hours spent in the lab. With a groan, he shifted under the covers, his tired eyes barely open as he squinted toward the clock—8:32 AM.
The project... their project. It had started years ago, an ambitious endeavor to create the perfect clone. Five already existed, living in our lab and running and laughing like ordinary children, unaware of the strange origins that bound them to this world.
Kazou's phone buzzed, pulling him from his haze. It was a message from Rose Brook. He rubbed his eyes, fingers stumbling for the device, his brain still foggy from a sleepless night. The text was short, but the urgency in it was unmistakable:
"Are you okay? You haven't shown up to the lab yet!"
Kazou couldn't help but grin. He knew Rose—she wasn't the type to just sit around and wait. "I overslept," he typed, a smirk playing on his lips. "Ever since we agreed to move in together, I've been excited." He threw the covers off, feet hitting the cold floor with a tap. Stretching. As he glanced at his reflection in the mirror, the fatigue was impossible to ignore, though he still looked like a typical 30-year-old asian man; the bags were pretty prominent. His face looked like that of an overworked university student, with bloodshot eyes. Just as he was about to pull himself together, his phone rang again. Rose. Of course.
"You've been acting distant lately," Rose said, her voice laced with concern. "I'm worried. Let's talk when you get to the lab. Please, babe!"
Kazou sighed, rolling his eyes but softening at the sound of her voice. "Don't worry, Rose. I'm fine. Just tired. You know, being the best in the lab comes with its perks," he said with a wink, even though she couldn't see it. "I'll be there soon." He hung up quickly, hoping she wouldn't dig too deep.
Rose had been his girlfriend for the past year and a half, the only American scientist at the lab. They'd met back at Columbia University in New York, both chasing their dreams of becoming scientists.
The two hit it off during junior year, became close friends, and, after graduation, found themselves working side by side in the same lab. The friendship blossomed into something more... though Kazou was still figuring out how to balance work and his very real feelings for her.
Kazou sighed as he tossed his phone back onto the bed, the sound of it landing with a soft thud echoing in the empty apartment bedroom. He stretched again, groaning, the muscles aching from days of bending over microscopes and analyzing genetic data. The work was intense, but it had its perks—such as working with a cute chick. He pulled on his typical uniform, a white dress shirt, then a pair of dress pants. No extras today, not bothering with anything too formal. After all, the only person he had to impress at the lab today was Rose—and she'd seen him in much worse states. As he stepped into his shoes, his mind wandered back to their conversation earlier. Rose. She'd been on his mind a lot lately—more than usual. Maybe it was because they'd agreed to move in together, or maybe it was because he had this sneaky suspicion that she was starting to see through the facade he'd been carefully building. She could read him too well. But that was a problem for later. "Move it, Kazou," he muttered to himself, grabbing his jacket and slinging it over his shoulder before heading for the door.
* * *
When he arrived, the familiar building loomed in front of him, its stainless steel and glass exterior gleaming in the morning sun. He took a deep breath before pushing through the heavy doors. The place was quiet this early in the morning, but Kazou knew that wouldn't last long. A small number of researchers were bustling about, discussing projects and checking data on their computers.
Kazou took the elevator to his floor of the lab. The "Genetic research and cloning institute". As he pushed through the floor's front doors, he was met with the usual scent of chemicals and equipment. He spotted Rose immediately. She was at her usual spot, arms crossed, leaning against one of the lab tables, looking every bit the professional... but also very not professional, if you know what he meant. Her blouse was slightly undone at the top, a teasing hint of cleavage peeking out as she typed away on her computer. She was always too easy to read.
"Well, well, if it isn't the elusive Dr. Kuroda," she said, without looking up. Her voice held a hint of sarcasm, but there was a warmth beneath it, one that only Kazou was lucky enough to know. Kazou smirked, leaning against the table beside her.
"Had a rough night, Rose. You know how it is when you're... at the top of your game," he said, with a playful tone. "Couldn't help but oversleep."
Rose glanced up, raising an eyebrow of her own.
"Top of your game, huh? That's a new one." She smirked, tapping her keyboard. "Well, if you're so on top, why does it look like you haven't slept in three days? I'm starting to think the lab's not the only thing keeping you up late."
Kazou's lips curled into a mischievous grin. "Hey, when you're in high demand, you've got to keep your options open. But speaking of keeping things, you've been quiet about our little living arrangement. Getting cold feet?"
Rose narrowed her eyes, hovering her fingers away from the keyboard, tapping the desk steadily with her red acrylics.
"Cold feet? Please, Kazou, I just want to make sure we're both still on the same page. Last time I checked, this wasn't a one-person project." She says, changing the subject. "But, you know, I don't mind co-leading—if you're up for it."
"Co-leading, huh? Well, I've got to say, I like the sound of that!"
Rose laughed softly, leaning closer.
"Careful, Kazou. I'm still the one who could outsmart you in this lab... and in other areas. Don't get too cocky."
Kazou leaned in, his voice dropping lower. "Oh, I'm not cocky... I just know what I want—and what I want, Rose, is you. In more ways than one."
Rose straightened up, smoothing down her blouse with a playful glint in her eye.
"I'll take that as a later thing, Kazou. For now, let's get to work. We've got a lot to do today—Experiment 4 is going to be available for adoption soon!"
Kazou chuckled, standing up straight. "You always know how to keep me on my toes, don't you, Rose?"
"Only because you make it so easy," she teased.
As they walked deeper into the lab, Kazou couldn't help but smile to himself. Rose suddenly turned her head toward him. Her eyes were mischievous, a playful smirk tugging at her lips as they headed to the clone's bedrooms.
"So," she said, her voice low, "I've been thinking. After all this... work," she paused, making sure he caught her meaning, "how about we unwind a little tonight? Maybe play a little game in your room, just the two of us?"
Kazou raised an eyebrow, sensing where this might be going. His grin spread a little wider.
"A game, huh? What kind of game are we talking about here, Rose?"
Her gaze flickered, meeting his with a spark of something far more tantalizing.
"A fun game! You might even like how it ends," she said, voice teasing but filled with a layer of something more. Something undeniably tempting. Kazou's pulse quickened just a bit. It wasn't the first time Rose had suggested this.. He looked at her, trying to figure out just how serious she was. But he wasn't sure he wanted to know. He leaned closer,
"A fun game!? I'm great at games!" Kazou exclaimed.
"I'll hold you to that. But you'd better be prepared, because when it comes to games… I don't play easy." Rose's smile deepened, a spark in her eyes.
"Oh, I don't expect easy. I never do." Kazou chuckles.
Kazou and Rose made their way down the white hallway. The quiet buzz of lab equipment hummed in the background, blending with the soft tap of their footsteps on the polished floor. As they approached the door to the room where the clones slept, Kazou glanced over at Rose. Her usual playful smirk had softened into a more thoughtful expression, as though something about this particular moment was weighing on her mind. Kazou couldn't blame her. It was never easy to get used to the idea of creating children who would never truly grow, children who were born from the lab and not from love. He pushed open the door with a soft click.
The clones slept in their beds, there were 5 beds for each child. Despite their natural mixed with artificial origins, they looked... human. Like a normal human. He stepped in, gently lifting his hand to the dimming light switch. The lights flickered on.
"Rise and shine, kiddos," Kazou exclaimed.
Almost immediately, one of the younger clones, Clone Nine, sits up and turns her head toward Kazou. Her large, blue eyes sparkled.
The girl was mute, but she could communicate perfectly with his body, especially when he was excited. Without hesitation, Clone Nine scrambled out of bed, her small feet tapping quickly on the cold floor. Before Kazou could react, Clone Nine ran straight to him. With speed, the little girl wrapped her arms around Kazou's legs, hugging them tightly. Her face was buried in Kazou's jeans. Kazou's eyes softened as he looked down at the girl clinging to him.
"Hey, Nine," he murmured, his voice softer than usual. "Good morning, little one."
Rose stood by the doorway, watching. She had always been fascinated by the clones, but something about Clone Nine's silent affection made her smile.
"Favoritism." She commented, her voice almost wistful.
"Not favoritism! The kids love all of us!" Kazou grinned.
Experiment 4, one of the older clones who was about 13 years old, and Experiment 6 walked over to Kazou and nine. Four was frowning.
"Father! I don't wanna be adopted! I wanna live with you guys forever!" He pouted.
"What are you thinking, Four? That's not how it works, silly!" Experiment 6 laughs.
Clone Nine looked up at Kazou, her blue eyes wide and full of innocent trust. She didn't say anything. Her grip tightened around Kazou's legs, as if she were trying to keep him anchored, to keep him from leaving. Her silence was deafening in a way that words never could be. Rose took a small step forward, her voice more gentle than before.
"Do you ever think about what happens to them, Kazou? I mean..y think about it? They are born like normal kids, but with memories of their past lives, and grow up into adults, but how will they be when adults? Your father made clones, but do we know where they are now? As adults?"
"Sometimes," Kazou replied.
Experiment 8, who was 8 years old, scampered towards the other clones.
"Four! Can we play soccer today?!" Eight asks.
"Yeah! Great idea!" Four smiles.
"Guys! Me and Four are gonna be on the same team because we're older and more mature!" Six chuckles.
"No fair!" Eight moans. "I'm all alone!"
Clone 10 calmly walks towards the children.
"It's okay, Eight. I'll be on your team!" He says.
"Sometimes?" Rose replies.
"But they're still... they're still here, Rose. And as long as they're here, I'll do my best to make sure they're treated like real kids." Kazou smiles.
Rose's eyes softened, a brief flash of guilt crossing her face. She knew Kazou's commitment to the project, to them—his clones. Clone Nine slowly released her hold on Kazou's legs and stepped back, still staring up at him with those wide, silent eyes. Kazou ruffled the girl's hair, offering her a small smile. "Alright, Nine. Time for you and the others to have something to eat."
Rose took a deep breath, her gaze lingering on the child. "You do care about them, don't you?"
"They're... they're not just experiments, Rose," he finally said, his voice low. "They're something more than that. And I'm not sure what that means yet."
Rose nodded, though her expression remained heavy.
"Just... don't forget this, Kazou. They're not children… they're clones… experiments. Even if you don't always want them to be… They will never be as valuable or equal to a real human life."
Kazou turned away, his eyes once again falling on Clone Nine, who was skipping her way towards the end of the hallway following the other clones. Kazou took a deep breath and faced Rose once again.
"They are just as valuable. They are just as equal as a real human life."
Kazou turns his head forward and begins to walk away down the hallway, following the clone children. Rose stood there in astonishment.
* * *
"I hope you eat your breakfast! I'm not a very good cook, but I tried extra hard just for you guys!" Akane Kirigiri, a young researcher still working towards her doctorate, exclaimed proudly as she served a plate of food to each child.
"I don't know why you didn't let me or Dr. Fujino cook for them!" Dr. Hanasaki, a middle-aged scientist with a more cynical attitude, sighed as she folded her arms.
"How would I ever improve if I didn't have anyone to taste-test my cooking, Doctor?!" Akane pouted, clearly undeterred by Dr Hanasaki's lack of enthusiasm.
"I wouldn't mind being your taste tester, Aka-San, but using the clones? Not an ideal option," Dr. Hanasaki muttered, staring at the food with growing skepticism. "You've seen the results. I'm not sure I want to risk their genetic makeup being permanently altered by… whatever this is."
"Great," Akane said sarcastically. "So I'm just a mad scientist trying to poison them. Perfect."
"Not sure what seasoning you used, but I'm pretty sure that's not the same thing as 'flavor," Dr. Hanasaki shot back.
The sound of the door opening interrupted their banter. Dr. Fujino, another member of the research team, a younger middle-aged man, entered the kitchen with a smile that could have charmed a room full of kindergarteners.
"Good morning, ladies. What's all this talk about Aka-San's cooking?" Dr. Fujino asked, raising an eyebrow as he noticed Akane standing against the cooktop, pouting dramatically as she faced Hanasaki, who was throwing away the dishes Aka served.
"I'll make them something else, Aka!" Dr Hanasaki sighed.
"Hey, kids!" Fujino waved cheerfully.
"Hi, Doctor Fujino!!!!" Eight, one of the younger clones of the group, shouted enthusiastically, waving back.
"Top of the morning to you, little dude!" Dr. Fujino replied, walking over and giving Eight a playful fist bump. Then, he sauntered toward the other two scientists at the cooktop.
"I think we need to talk about your cooking, Aka-San," Dr. Fujino said as he eyed the food in the trash can suspiciously.
"I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE TALKING ABOUT!" Akane whined, her cheeks puffing up like an overinflated balloon. "Dr. Hanasaki said my cooking tastes like dog shit!"
Dr. Fujino blinked, then turned to Hanasaki.
"Dog shit? Really?" He chuckled slightly.
"I NEVER SAID THAT!" Dr Hanasaki immediately protested, her face reddening. "I just said Aka-San needs to stop experimenting with the clones as her guinea pigs and actually… I don't know, taste test her food first." Fujino noticed one plate of Aka's cooking was still on the counter, waiting to be discarded by Dr. Hanasaki. Dr Fujino leaned in toward the plate of food with exaggerated caution, sniffing it like a bomb squad member inspecting a suspicious package. He raised an eyebrow and took a small bite. The room held its collective breath.
"...Okay, okay," Dr. Fujino muttered after chewing for a moment. "It's not that bad."
The children, who had been staring in awe at the adults' drama, looked up, confused.
"What does that mean, Dr. Fujino?" Four asked, his eyes wide.
"It means it's borderline edible," Fujino replied with a wink. "But Aka-San, we need to talk about the seasoning. If I wanted to try something that tasted like it came out of a forgotten container at the back of the fridge, I would've just gone rummaging through the labs for leftover experiments."
"I DIDN'T PUT ANYTHING LIKE THAT IN IT!" Akane shrieked in horror.
"Uh-huh, right," Dr. Hanasaki drawled, crossing her arms. "If I get any weird stomach cramps later, you're cleaning the lab toilets, Aka-San." Akane groaned, slapping her forehead.
"Ugh, fine, you all win. I'll take a cooking class or something." She pouted, her eyes narrowing playfully.
Dr. Fujino glanced at the children, who were now quietly eating the food off their plates that Dr Hanasaki had prepared for them.
"Oh, don't worry, Aka-San! You don't need cooking classes", Dr. Hanasaki said, her voice dripping with mock sympathy.
Akane crossed her arms.
"Okay, okay, enough already. I'll stick to research from now on and leave the cooking to you, Hanasaki. It can't possibly be worse."
"Don't tempt me," Dr. Hanasaki replied, narrowing her eyes. "You just might get a taste of my 'experimental' casserole next time."
The group burst into laughter.
"Alright, alright!" Akane exclaimed, shaking her head.
"Maybe I'll just stick to studying genetics—at least they don't require seasoning!"
"There you go, Aka! Stick to studying, kid!" Dr. Fujino laughed.
"I'll show you! Once I get my doctorate, I'm heading to culinary school! Then you'll be praising me, asking me how I cook so well!" Akane giggled.
"If that's your dream, go for it! But don't spend too much time in culinary school—you don't want that doctorate going to waste!" Dr. Hanasaki chuckled, shaking her head.
"Alright, alright! You guys are so strict! But don't worry, I won't go to culinary school. I'll use that doctorate!" Akane grinned.
"To do what? Become a dietitian?" Dr. Fujino teased.
"Oh, stop it! I'm going to be a scientist! Just like you guys!" Akane declared with a laugh.
The morning sun filtered softly through the high windows of the lab, casting a warm glow over the bustling kitchen. The clones, now finishing their breakfast with mixed results, chattered in their usual carefree manner. They had devoured the food in a way that was almost too eager, each bite taken with childlike enthusiasm, even as the adults continued to bicker and joke in the background. Kazou, still lost in thought after his conversation with Rose, moved slowly toward the children, his gaze lingering on Clone Nine, who was sitting quietly at the table, watching the others with wide eyes. Kazou's heart clenched as he looked at her. She reminded him of so much, yet so little. Dr. Fujino, ever the optimist, clapped his hands together.
"Alright, kids, time to head outside! Get some fresh air and maybe work off that breakfast!"
"YAY!!" The children cheered, their energy skyrocketing at the prospect of play time.
The rest of the scientists stood back, observing as Kazou and Dr. Fujino herded the excited group toward the exit. Akane followed behind, still in good spirits, despite her earlier cooking fiasco.
Once outside, the clones scattered in different directions, some of them engaging in playful games and others spending time by themselves. Dr. Fujino smiled warmly as he watched them, but Kazou couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered within him.
"Just look at them," Dr. Fujino commented casually, sitting down on a bench beside Kazou."They're like any other kids, Dr. Kuroda. Aren't they?"
Kazou nodded absently, his mind elsewhere. He glanced over at the group of clones, but his eyes were drawn to one in particular: Clone Ten. He was standing apart from the others, his back turned to the group, eyes intently focused on something in his hands. Kazou's eyes narrowed. He stood and walked over to where Ten sat against a nearby tree.
"Huh? Dr. Kuroda? Where are you going?!" Dr Fujino shouted out.
"I'll be back." Kazou asserts without looking back.
The child was absorbed in a picture book, the title printed in faded letters: Forgotten Soldier. Kazou could feel his heart beat faster as he approached, a strange, uncomfortable sensation prickling the back of his neck. The book itself seemed...wrong. The illustrations were stark, devoid of any childish color.
Black-and-white sketches that depicted a lone soldier drawn as a black distorted creature trudging through a war-torn battlefield, haunted eyes staring at the horrific world.. The pages turned, showing images of destruction, empty streets, and people fleeing in terror. Kazou stopped a few feet away, his gaze lingering on the book, before he spoke.
"Ten…" he said quietly. The boy didn't look up. His eyes remained glued to the page, unblinking, his expression unreadable. Kazou took a step closer, his voice softer this time. "What are you reading?"
Ten's voice was cold, almost mechanical as he spoke.
"A story about a soldier who is forgotten by everyone. He's left behind in a war that nobody cares about. He wanders the world, alone, waiting for someone to remember him, little does he know… He's dead."
Kazou's stomach twisted, but he kept his voice steady.
"Why are you reading that, Ten? And where did you find that book? Would you like me to bring you a better book?"
The boy slowly turned a page, not bothering to look up. His fingers lingered on the next illustration—an image of the soldier standing over his own grave stone, his face devoid of emotion.
"Because the soldier understands that nobody will ever come for him. He knows that, deep down. And yet, he still waits."
Kazou's throat tightened. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. His mind screamed to ask more, to probe deeper, but for some reason, he couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead, he asked the only thing he could think of.
"Do you... Do you feel like the soldier, Ten?"
Ten's gaze flickered up, meeting Kazou's eyes. His face was completely devoid of expression, and yet, there was a glimmer in his eyes—a sort of quiet, unsettling knowledge.
"Sometimes," he said softly. "But I'm not waiting for anyone, Father. I've already been forgotten, but at least I have my father."
There was something about the way Ten said it, so casually. He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could speak, Ten turned another page in the book.
The images grew darker, the scenes more harrowing. The soldier was now shown walking through a desolate city, his face a mask of indifference as explosions rained down around him. The chaos seemed endless, and the soldiers around him had no faces—just shadows.
Dr. Fujino called out to the children.
"Alright, that's enough for now, kids! Let's take a break. Come on back inside."
As the others began to shuffle back towards the building, Kazou remained where he was, staring at Clone Ten, still engrossed in the book. The child's expression had not changed. He wasn't sure why, but he felt an overwhelming sense of dread watching Ten sit there, so still, so detached. As if the boy had already disconnected from the world in a way that nobody around him could understand. Kazou's eyes flickered to the rest of the clones, who were running and playing with each other in the background as they ran towards the building, their laughter ringing in the air like the sound of innocence. It felt so far removed from Ten's silence, his isolation. But the real question, the one that haunted Kazou, lingered unanswered in the pit of his stomach: Was Ten just a child like the others? Or was there something far more beneath that face?
As the last of the children filed back inside the lab, their laughter fading into the building's walls, Kazou found himself still standing outside, the cool air brushing against his skin. But as he stood there, distracted, he noticed something that made his heart catch. Nine, the quiet girl with the wide, innocent blue eyes, was still outside. She was standing off to the side, a small bouquet of wildflowers clutched gently in her hands. The delicate petals were a mix of colors, vibrant against the green grass beneath her feet. Without a word, she slowly walked towards Ten, her bare feet barely making a sound on the grass. Kazou stood there, watching the two of them. His gaze flickered back to Nine. She hadn't spoken since she was three years old. Nine reached ten and, without hesitation, placed the flowers in his hands. Her eyes held a softness that contrasted sharply with the coldness of Ten's demeanor. She didn't say anything—she didn't need to. Her actions spoke for her. The gift was simple, but the gesture carried so much weight: kindness, innocence, and perhaps even a touch of longing. The way she looked at him, those wide eyes brimming with trust, spoke of a bond that transcended the surface. Ten glanced down at the flowers in his hands, his expression unreadable. His eyes flickered over the petals, then up to Nine's face. She stood there, patiently, her gaze unwavering, as though waiting for him to respond. Her silence was not empty—it was an invitation, a plea for something only he could understand. For a long moment, Ten didn't speak.
He simply stared at the flowers, as if lost in thought. The air between them thickened, and Kazou felt his heart skip a beat, a strange tension coiling in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to look away, but he couldn't. It was as though the two children shared a language that no one else could comprehend. Then, Ten slowly looked up at Nine, his expression still as stoic as ever, but something was flickering in his gaze—a fleeting softness, almost imperceptible, as he accepted the flowers. It was as though, in that moment, something stirred within him—something that connected him to her in a way that Kazou couldn't quite understand.
"Thank you," Ten said, his voice low and quiet, but the words felt heavier than they should have.
"Hey, what the hell are you doing, Dr Kuroda?" Dr. Fujino's voice snapped Kazou from his thoughts.
He turned to see the man approaching, his steps brisk, eyes narrowed in mild irritation.
"You've been standing there for the last five minutes. Come on, we need you inside. The paperwork is piling up."
Kazou didn't answer immediately, still watching Ten, who now held the flowers delicately in his hands, his fingers twitching slightly as though processing the meaning of Nine's silent offering. Kazou could feel the cold sweat beginning to trickle down the back of his neck. God, this is strange. Something's very strange here. Dr. Fujino caught his gaze, following it toward the children.
"What's your problem, Dr Kuroda? You look like you've seen a ghost." Kazou snapped out of it, finally tearing his eyes away from the unsettling scene. He forced a smile, masking his unease.
"It's nothing. Just thinking."
"You've been thinking for far too long. C'mon, we've got work to do." Dr. Fujino says. "Ten! Nine! Come here, kids!"
Kazou knew that the man had no idea what it was like to look into the eyes of the clones, to see that glimmer of something they should never have—something too mature for their young bodies, almost as if they had memories of their past lives. As he stepped through the door, Akane, who had been watching the entire exchange from the doorway, raised an eyebrow.
"You okay, Dr?" she asked, her tone a mixture of concern and curiosity.
She could read him too well. Kazou didn't answer. He couldn't. His throat was tight, his thoughts too chaotic. He walked past her without a word, heading straight to his office. Once there, he locked the door behind him and collapsed into his chair. His hand shook slightly as he ran it through his hair. What the hell is happening? His thoughts kept returning to Ten and the unsettling calm in his eyes, the way the boy had recited that twisted tale of the forgotten soldier. The way he had held the flowers—so strangely detached, yet almost… appreciative? God, he couldn't shake it. Something about this whole situation was sad. Wrong in a way that felt like it had been set in motion long before any of them had even realized it. The clones were not just regular children. No, they couldn't be. They were experiments, sure, but there was something else there. They are beings with the trauma of being killed; they have witnessed far more horrific things than other children. His own words to Rose echoed in his mind.
"They're just as valuable. They're just as equal as a real human life."
His hand clenched into a fist as he closed his eyes, trying to push the thoughts away, but it wasn't working. There was a knock on the door. Kazou didn't answer immediately. His thoughts were too far tangled. The knock came again, more insistent this time.
With a sigh, he rubbed his face and muttered,
"What now?" He stood and opened the door, only to be greeted by Dr. Hanasaki standing in the hallway, arms crossed and a look of frustration on her face.
"Dr. Kuroda," she began, her voice dripping with irritation, "I know you're busy with... whatever it is you're doing in here, but we need to talk about those clones of yours—specifically Ten. What the hell is going on with him?"
Kazou blinked, the harshness of her tone catching him off guard.
"What do you mean? What's wrong with Ten?"
"You saw how he was outside this morning. That book, for example. What kind of child reads something like that?" She asserted, her arms tightening as though the conversation itself was making her physically tense.