Aren't the Eggs Hatching?

Madeline asked Nick how long empty rooms had been turning up in the hilbert. The concierge wrestled with its protocols, its face a portrait of silver indecision. It finally admitted, but for longer than the current version of my programme has beenp rating. Madeline blew out an incredulous breath, her lips making a slight fluttering noise. This is, nick said, really bad doesn't begin to it could be in the billions. She closed her eyes and opened them again, looking as stricken as nick had ever seen her. "The god damn eggs are hatching, aren't they? They've jest stated."