"A bit like being in the womb I should imagine, cosy." she interjects. The silk thread in her hands feels luxurious, strong yet smooth.

"I wouldn't worry about your little ones," she tells the man.
"I'm a father, you can't do this to me. To them. I have responsibilities."
"Hold on a minute. Does that mean that I am expendable? Just because I don't have children then your life is more important than mine?"