"She's your wife. Yours alone. Play with her until you’re tired of it." ...Is that really something you should be saying to your 10 year old son, Mother-in-law? My little husband stammered when he spoke. His face was marred with snake-like scales, his hands scarred by old burns. Yet I devoted myself to caring for him. "Keep eating. You’ll need to grow taller than me." "D-do I really... have to be taller than Cheria?" "...." "I-I actually like it better when you’re taller than me..." Perhaps I cared too much. Because the gentle boy I thought I was healing grew into someone... not quite right. "Did he die? Well, that makes things easier." "...I beg your pardon?" "...Anyone who speaks of life as though it were a mere insect is nothing but trash." Was he searching for my approval... or challenging it?