"But our number kept dropping, and annihilation seemed imminent. Until you arrived."
I listened with every bit of focus I could muster, my attention locked on her words as if they were the only thing keeping me tethered to reality.
When she finally finished, the only response I could manage was a long, heavy exhale.
My thoughts were a whirlwind, and through it all one refrain kept echoing in my skull: what the hell is this, what the hell is this, what the hell is this?
And yet… when I looked at my own story — the absurd twists of fate, the system, the blessings and curses — hers didn't sound so unbelievable. Not really.
The quiet genuineness in her tone lent it a weight that was hard to deny, as though she wasn't trying to convince me but simply laying out a truth she'd carried too long.
Still, something in her story snagged my attention, a detail I couldn't ignore. I leaned forward, eyes narrowing.
"Wait a minute… did you say grandkids? As in more than one?"
