Going back now might doom me.
Pushing on might doom my daughters. And then me.
I just couldn't decide!
But not deciding was the same as moving forward with it.
Ambrosia sighed softly.
"You don't have to decide now, Nectus."
Was she reading my thoughts? Did I spontaneously mutate the telepathy gene?
She walked around and sat opposite of me. When I raised my eyes to meet hers, she stared me in the eyes, frowning thoughtfully. Was that concern in her expression, too?
"You keep worrying… Stop doing that before you kill yourself."
"Huh? What are you talking about?"
"Your worries, of course." Ambrosia's frown deepened. "I've been thinking about them since I found they might make people sicker. Everybody knows you worry the most of us. Ask any bee who worked in the hive longer than a week, 'who worries most of all?', and she will tell, 'Father, of course!'."
W-what? My daughters thought I was such a worrywart?!
