Jeanne-Marie listened, both not wanting to hear, and not believing a word. His sudden shift from French to English fell on deaf ears, Jeanne-Marie not noticing. The words coming from her brother were not only unbelievable, they were horrifying. Rumors had been running that mutants were becoming infected with the virus, but Jean-Paul... Not Jean-Paul.
Her jaw went slack, and her eyes brimmed slightly. A hand clapped to her mouth as he admitted to drinking blood. Every religious part of her was screaming at her to run, leave, get away from the demon standing before her. But that demon was still her brother. It felt like someone had punched her in the stomach. How had this been kept from her? Why hadn't anyone told her, prepared her for the fact that her twin was now carrying the virus that had been taking people left and right?
Anger took over, her hand dropping away and clenching into a fist at her side. Her jaw clenched, the muscles visibly tensing in her cheek. She didn't know what to say. Nothing she could say could really make anything better, but she wasn't going run. She'd done that to Jean-Paul before, and that hadn't been fair. This wasn't his fault, just as much as his sexual preference wasn't his fault.
"I'm sorry, Jean-Paul." Her voice quavered. She wished there was something she could do to change time, save her brother from this fate. "Why didn't you tell me sooner? How long have you been like this?"