"Actually, you're not," Utilika told Tindriss. "I mean, about the child." He pointed up at the shroud, The Fours. "We're taking him." 

     "You are not." This from Adam Adama. She'd scrabbled her way into this so-very-weird huddled group. Gramps' grenades had, quite literally, torn her apart, but what remained still said, That is ​my child."

CONTINUE