Amita Amyan barely glanced at the screen, and only to check the incoming caller ID. “What is it, Inara? I thought we’d made ourselves perfectly …” She stopped and stared. “Who are you?”

“Freya Reynolds, Madam Amyan. I’m a friend of your daughter’s.”

“How did you get this address? It’s unlisted.”

“I need your help. Inara needs your help.”

Amita raised an eyebrow by a millimetre. “The baby?”

Not her grandchild , Freya noted. “Indirectly.”

“She waved me. Told me she was pregnant.” She lifted a hand as if she’d picked up something disgusting. “I knew Inara was headstrong, but really.”

“She’s sick.”

“And what do you expect me to do about it? Hold her hand?”

Freya felt anger building in the pit of her stomach like a stone starting to glow with heat. “She’s your daughter.”

“And I’m the other side of the system.”

Taking a breath to give herself a moment to not say the words bubbling in her throat, Freya consciously opened her fists. “Did she tell you what was wrong? Why she’s sick?”

“She didn’t have to.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The family curse, I would imagine.”

“Madam Amyan –”

“Honeywell’s Disease. It sounds almost pleasant, doesn’t it? It isn’t, I can assure you. But Inara could easily have avoided it.”

“You’re saying this is her fault?”

“She didn’t have to get pregnant. If she’d stayed a Companion this wouldn’t even be an issue.”

“If she didn’t know –”

“Of course she knew. I’ve never kept it a secret from her, far from it. I’ve warned her since she was a child. It’s the reason I didn’t want any more. The whole family knows about Honeywell’s.”

“I don’t.”

“Then you are lucky. Inara never wanted children until she found herself pregnant by that … whatever his name was.” Amita patted her hair as if the dead father of her grandson was totally immaterial.

Right that moment Freya was glad there was only the Cortex link between them, as she wasn’t sure she could have controlled her own actions. “Gregor Andreyev.”

“Yes. Hi