Page 14 of Conner's Luna

I smile and close my eyes. "There's ongoing research all the time to decipher all of the hundreds to thousands of genetic codes in humans. And that's just in humans. The more we can map the structure and codes, the closer we come to curing diseases, developing new biotech, or we can apply the same technology to other organisms, like safely creating GMOs for human consumption."

"I heard those were bad," he murmurs.

"GMOs? I suppose it depends. Science, especially when people aren't transparent, is scary, but if you can grow more food in less time and have it last longer than you prevent mass starvation in times of drought or natural disaster. What if a crop in one part of the world fails? We can grow it somewhere else and ship it to people who need it." I snuggle deeper into my pillow. It's getting harder to remember why I called Braxton. Conner is a distraction, but we really need to work on this project.

Conner chuckles again. "You want to save the world, Bails?"

I blush. "Just help, guess. One scientist doesn't save the world," I mumble into my phone. I put it down next to my head when it gets too heavy to hold in place.

"Tell me more," he demands softly.

"There are bad parts of it, I guess," I tell him. "Biological weapons." I yawn. "Now, that's scary stuff. I think I want to go into medical research, anyway. Not GMOs."

"You sound less enthusiastic about medicine, babe."

"Hmm?" I'm sleepy. Did he just call me babe?

"What do you want to do, Bails?"

"For the project?"

"Just in the future," he sounds like he's whispering.

"I just want to help," I murmur. "Does that sound dumb?"

"I don't think you'd ever be dumb, sweetheart. Tired?"

"Mmhm."

"Did you take your Nyquil?" he asks.

"Yeah. Dad gave it to me... knocks me out."

"You can skip class tomorrow."

"No," I reply stubbornly. At least I think I do, but I'm so tired...

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Conner

"Bailey? Princess, you still there?" I can hear the soft sound of her breath deepening into sleep. Rubbing my stomach, I lay back in my bed and smile. "Rest, babe."

"Calling a girl who isn't your mate,babe, is an interesting move."

My eyes spring open. Dad is leaning in my doorway, arms crossed over his chest, green eyes narrowed on my hand still rubbing my abs.

I jerk my hand off and hang up Braxton's phone. Baby bro is probably still in the kitchen, crying to our mommy about how his big brother beat him up and stole his phone. "She's not... I was just..."

Dad uncrossed his arms and steps inside my room, firmly shutting the door behind him. He walks over to the bed and motions for me to lie back down when I sit up.

"Dad, don't-" I try to knock his hands away, but the fucker is fast, and he manages to lift my t-shirt enough to get a good glimpse at the dark purple and black bruising decorating my abdomen.

Dad sits next to me on the bed heavily. He sighs, the sound one of anger and defeat. "They don't look like they're healing," he says.

"They're not," I reply, blunting, sitting up defensively. I haven't had the chance to heal before they come back.

He stares aimlessly into space, his hands cradled between his knees. "You've been there for three months. It's nearly the Solstice. Semester ends soon."

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