Roland and Verity
Roland hadn't known she was that far along. He tried not to think of Susan and how she may have looked this far into her pregnancy had she not been killed. It was difficult not to compare the two. They had the same hair, almost the same smile, the same skin tone. Roland felt himself smiling in return. It looked foreign on him, his face acting as if it took great effort to smile so broadly, as if it were painful. "She?" he asked. "A girl?"