[She hums softly in agreement to that first part. This was doomed from the moment it began, because Comstock had never wanted a baby purely for the sake of having a child. This was no adoption. He wanted a symbol, and so he bought it, because in his mind it was nearly the same thing.
But oh, that second question . . . Rosalind takes a step forward, staring at Robert with rapt attention. He looks so young here, his hair disheveled and his face pale. He's going to hemorrhage in a moment, she knows, but for just this moment, he looks perfect. The younger Rosalind has straightened out, aware she can't appear weak, but Robert still stays close, their shoulders bumping and his fingers dragging lightly, unseen, against her palm.
Her darling. Her Robert, and her heart aches as he leans down, murmuring in her ear.
Hello, Rosie, he'd said, and Rosalind presses her lips tightly together.]
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But oh, that second question . . . Rosalind takes a step forward, staring at Robert with rapt attention. He looks so young here, his hair disheveled and his face pale. He's going to hemorrhage in a moment, she knows, but for just this moment, he looks perfect. The younger Rosalind has straightened out, aware she can't appear weak, but Robert still stays close, their shoulders bumping and his fingers dragging lightly, unseen, against her palm.
Her darling. Her Robert, and her heart aches as he leans down, murmuring in her ear.
Hello, Rosie, he'd said, and Rosalind presses her lips tightly together.]
No. Not my brother.
Me.