"This child... I don't—I don't want him anymore!"
"Of course you don't. A wonderful woman like you shouldn't be ruined by her own son."
My mother broke into sobs.
Someone charged forward and grabbed my collar.
"You'd better pray our tests come back clean. If they don't, I'll kill you right here. If we're going down, you're coming with us!"
Another guest lunged to grab his arm.
"Are you insane?! You're touching him! What if you get infected?!"
The man's breath caught.
He shoved me away hard.
Pulled out a wet wipe and scrubbed frantically at every spot where he'd touched me.
I stumbled back a few steps. Steadied myself.
Looked at the circle of hostile eyes surrounding me.
And said, quietly:
"I'm not sick."
The report hit my chest and fell to the floor.
"You're still lying?! All those abnormal markers—are you blind?!"
"There should be a law to execute people like you! You filthy disease carriers! You get your fun, and then you expect the rest of us—people who actually keep ourselves clean—to share the risk?!"
I just looked at them. Calm.
"I said. I'm not sick."
"Irvin."
Cedric stepped forward.
"I know you didn't want us to find out. But this is your own fault."