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   Chapter 53 No.53

Humanity By EJBowman Characters: 5113

Updated: 2017-12-27 19:03

"Apologies, " Thomas said, red-faced. "We were under the assumption you knew because, well, there are ways of telling even after a few hours now. She shows signs of being in the early stages of pregnancy."

"How odd, " Lysander muttered before inhaling orange smoke.

"So, theoretically, we cannot treat the downtowner, but we can remove the foetus from her and have it grown in a hospital nursery… providing it is yours. However, the downtowner would not survive this procedure because removing the child from her body this early on would require removing her entire uterus… Well, actually, under uptowner circumstances she could survive the uterus removal, but the hospital will not caring about her body and simply removing it from her for the sake of the foetus so she would probably die of blood loss, " he drifted off when he realised he was getting off-topic.

Lord Jordanis stared at the floor for a long time in deep thought before replying.

"No, " he said coldly.

Javier raised an eyebrow. "Do you mean 'no' as in the foetus is not yours or…?"

"No, as in remove her from life support this instant."

"Do you want us to remove the foetus from her?"


Javier turned Thomas around so they could have a discussion in private.

"Technically, it is in the mother's right to decide whether or not the foetus is saved, not the father's, " he explained. He was one of the rare uptowners who indifferent about uptowners and downtowners when it came to medically aiding people. He felt it was his job to he

more eyes on the pair. Flick had gotten used to odd looks, but never this many people took second glances of him.

Remain calm, he told himself. Just get in, get Perseus some clothing, and get out. That's all.

The electronics store had televisions in the window display. On the screen, tonight's second debate between Koris, Lysander and Fae was being aired. The downtowner refused to watch as all it did was make him nervous for Koris.

"What kinda colours do ya like to wear?" Flick asked when they entered the nearest men's store.

Perseus seemed confused: "What colours do you think I look best in?"

Flick sighed. This had been the problem with the Olympian for the last few days. He refused to give his own opinion… if he had one.

"I want you to choose a shirt, " he demanded while holding up one from the rack as an example.

The Olympian looked at the shirt in Flick's hand.

"That one?"

"No, choose a different one."

He pointed to the exact same shirt that was on the rack. "This one?"

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