“It’s the stress,” I answered. “He doesn’t like seeing us go hungry or cold.”
“Well, I can do something about the one, but not about the other.” She reached into her jacket with a smile and pulled out a box of pancake mix. “It’s the add water kind.”
Grandma took the box and hugged Brooke. “You’re good to think of us when some of us don’t deserve it.”
The dig on Wayne annoyed me. He wasn’t perfect by any means, but he was trying to survive, just like the rest of us.
“You’re welcome. And don’t let Wayne get to you. Traumatic events change people.”
I glanced down at the baby clothes to hide my reaction to that and wondered if Brooke would have been so willing to jump into a fey’s arms if not for the apocalypse.
“Are those baby clothes, Terri?”
Looking up, I met her gaze.
“Yes.”
“According to what Solin told me, there are more than a few hopeful baby-daddies who’d be willing to trade with you for those. They’re obsessed with the babies-to-be and would do anything to ensure they have what they need. You’d have to come to Tolerance to negotiate, though.”
My gaze shifted to the fey beside her, and a sick feeling settled into my stomach. I knew going to Tolerance meant more than only leaving the safety of the wall. One of the fey would need to carry me there.