Page 31

Why does it bother me that he was with another woman?

He’s nineteen. Of course, he has needs to satisfy.

Minutes pass, and I have no clue what I’m supposed to do. I watch him sit in the computer chair and start reviewing my work.

“I know I messed something up,” I murmur, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks.

As the seconds tick by, I’m convinced he’s silently judging me, probably thinking about how stupid I am for not being able to get a program to run. But then I hear his voice.

“You did all this in a few hours?”

I nod, too embarrassed to promise I’ll do better next time, but before I can say a word, he continues.

“Julia, this is incredible.”

My eyes widen automatically.Incredible?

“Are you making fun of me right now?” I ask, giving him a dirty look that should make it clear I’m not in the mood for jokes. I worked hard, even if the result is a failure.

“You missed a parameter in one function, but the rest? Julia, you cut a three-second delay in half. In the real world, that’s a huge improvement for processing images.”

It’s the fascination and pride in his tone that stirs something strange in my chest. Something that is dangerous because it feels like a new addiction.

My every thought has been focused on the twins, on becoming skilled enough to have an advantage, to stay updated on what happens to them. But now, as I look at Maksim, who came back with such a heavy expression and now has the faintest glimmer in his eyes, I realize I didn’t just do it for them.

I wanted to do it for him too.

Because he seems lonely. Because he looks like someone who needs someone to be on his side. And because, even though I know I’ll leave this place eventually, until then, I want him to know he can count on me.

For the next hour, he explains what I could have done differently, shifting seamlessly into details about human trafficking. He describes how certain shipments follow poorly monitored routes, and that’s where he intervenes. Together with Akim and a team he formed, he saves a portion of the lives which would otherwise be doomed to hell.

I can feel his exhaustion, so we wrap up the talk about programs, applications, and routes and call it a night.

As the light goes out, the memory of that perfume resurfaces, and before I can stop myself, the words tumble from my mouth.

“Where were you earlier?”

He doesn’t owe me an explanation, yet somehow it feels like I deserve one. Why? I don’t even know.

I hear him exhale, and his voice feels like needles piercing my chest.

“It’s none of your business, Julia.”

I close my eyes and force myself to fall asleep. Because he’s right, it’s not my business. But I wish I could explain that to my heart.

I’m sure this attachment is because of the trauma I’ve been through, and that’s why I’ve clung to him so badly.

Tonight, I won’t reach for his hand. It’s not my place. He’s not mine to make such gestures to.

I know I fell asleep because, in the darkness, I hear sounds, low, guttural noises that freeze my body in place.

Hands grip my legs, lifting them slightly. A sharp pain pierces through me, and whispers tickle my ear.

Get off me!

But there’s no one. It’s just a nightmare; at least rationally, I know that. But I can feel his touch on my chest, my thighs, as if I’m fighting something invisible off me.

“I wish I had more time with you, palomita.”