Chapter 317

[Cordelia]

A small cry shatters the sorrow. Clark perks up, his whole body coming to attention. "Madeline," he turns his body away from me, like a flower seeking the sun, towards a small glass bed where two wiggling, swaddled bundles are curled up next to one another, one of them fussing more than the other. He picks her up and begins singing a sorrowful melody, something nonsensical that I'm confident he must be making up on the spot. The little spot of hair I see plastered to the side of her head is ink-black and curly.

As soon as he picks up one the other starts to cry and soon he has a little red head in his other hand. "Cassandra, don't be jealous," he sniffles, smiling brightly through his tears for his daughters. "Papa has two arms." He bounces them up and down.

I wish I could laugh at the tender scene, but my heart hurts as I look over and see the figure on the bed. She almost looks like she's a sleeping princess. Except that she's impossibly pale as if her skin has been was