“I didn’t know you were dwelling on it to that degree.”
Brandish shrugged and shook her head, as if she could shake off this conversation, this situation. “That child deserves better than I can offer. I know I don’t have it in me to form any kind of bond with another child if there’s no blood relation.”
The really sad thing here is that judging by what Amy has to narrate about Carol a decade later, she’s right.
Especially if she’s Marquis’.
“She needs you. You’re her only option. I can’t, and Fleur and Lightstar aren’t old enough or in the right place in their lives for kids, and if she goes anywhere else, it’ll be disastrous.”
And you don’t have any other cape friends that could help?
Brandish decided on the most direct, clear line of argument she could muster, “I don’t want her. I can’t take her.”
Brandish glanced at the kid that they’d stowed in the team’s car. The child was standing on the car seat, hands pressed against the window. Her stare bored into Brandish as though little girl had laser vision.
And who’s to say she doesn’t?
The window was open a crack, Brandish noted. The girl could probably hear everything they’d been saying. Brandish looked away.