“My mom talked to someone,” he muttered.
“Who?”
“A fortune teller.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“A fortune teller?”
He nodded slowly, still avoiding my eyes.
“She said the babies are cursed,” he whispered. “That they’ll ruin my life. That they’ll be the reason I die.”
The room felt like it tilted sideways.
“Jack… listen to yourself.”
I gestured toward the bassinets.