Page 150 of The Other Side

May stepped up next to Fi, a warm, nostalgic smile lighting up her face. “And speaking of childhood, Fi, I’ve never forgotten what you said to me just two days after we brought Will home from the hospital.”

Fi’s triumphant grin vanished. She promptly dropped her head into her hands.

“She was only six,” May went on, leaning into the microphone. “And she looked at him in the crib, looked up at me, and said, ‘Take that baby back. It’s not ours.’”

Another wave of laughter rolled through the room. Everyone found it hilarious. Everyone except Drum and Osian. Drum’s knuckles were white, his fingers clutching Osian’s hand so tightly it was a wonder the bones didn’t crack. Osian didn’t pull away; his grip was just as fierce, his thumb pressing hard into the back of Drum’s wrist.

“I asked her why she thought that,” May said, her voice softening with the memory. “And she insisted, with absolute six-year-old certainty, that his ears were completely different. She was convinced we’d brought home a stranger.”

More laughter followed, but to Drum, the sound was suddenly muffled, as if he were underwater. The air he was breathing was suffocatingly hot.

His ears were different.

“But we kept him anyway,” May’s voice boomed happily over the speakers, drawing a final cheer from the guests as she raised her glass to Will. “And thank God we did. The best son we could have ever hoped for. Happy birthday, sweetheart.”

As the crowd raised their glasses and the chatter resumed its normal, chaotic hum, Drum finally let go of Osian’s hand. His palms were slick with cold sweat.

“Oh God,” Drum whispered. “I want to leave. I have to get out of here.”

“Go and wait at the road. Call the cab. I’ll make our apologies.”

Drum slipped away when no one was looking in his direction. He shot one last glance at the couple who likely were his birth parents, a woman who was probably his older sister, then fled.

By the time Osian had joined him, Drum had called the cab driver.

“I said you had a headache,” Osian told him.

“I have.”

Osian put his arm around him. “It might not be what you’re thinking.”

“Will looks like Oliver,” Drum said quietly. “I wasn’t looking for it, but now I can see it. Maybe Fi caught a glimpse of faery ears before they’d changed. Maybe it wasn’t even that, but a child saw what an adult wouldn’t and couldn’t contemplate.”

Osian scrolled on his phone. “You’re right. Cerebral palsy is rarely diagnosed at birth. All babies move awkwardly at first. The physical signs of muscle stiffness, floppiness and poor coordination don’t show up until later.”

“That’s probably not true for fae parents. They could see what was coming.”

Osian shrugged. “Maybe.”

“They swapped Will for me and I disappointed them anyway.” Drum made a sound of frustration.

“What do you want to do?”

Drum turned to him and smiled. “Absolutely nothing. What would telling anyone achieve? Will’s parents love him and he loves them.”

“They could love you too.”

Drum shook his head. “I have you to love me now. I don’t need more than that.”

Osian leaned his head against him.

“Do you think Will has any residual faery power?” Drum asked.

“Maybe. I wondered how I managed to get the audience so wild in the pub sometimes, but with two fae playing, it makes more sense. Maybe he used magic without knowing to lessen the impact of the cerebral palsy. If so, he might start to notice things now he’s not compensating for that. His attraction to me could have been because he sensed something about me.”

“Sparlow is the right place for him.”

The taxi pulled up and they climbed in the back.