Jules' pov
"Mama, do you think it's okay that I'm not like the other kids?" I asked as I snuggled into the warmth of my mother's arms. She smelled of a blend of different fragrances at once, a scent I translated as comfort and peace.
She left out a soft coo as she slowly combed her fingers through my hair.
"Of course, love. It's very okay that you're not like the other kids. If you've been born like them, then nothing would have made you special. You're not like them because you're special and perfect, Labyrinth."
As she spoke. I gripped her tightly while snuggling into her warmth even more. I wanted to believe her really bad, but something at the back of my mind still held me back.
