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“What does it mean to you?” Quincy asked, calm and unwavering. “To be changed. To carry something that’s part of both of us. What’s the part that makes you hesitate?”
A heavy silence settled between them. Kuya didn’t answer right away, his gaze dropping to Quincy’s chest then to the futon. Then, in a voice so small it barely qualified as his, he said: “…Because if I let it happen… I can’t take it back. Can’t change my body back, I can’t drop the kid off and walk away.”