“Marcellious, what do you think?” She pivoted to her side, facing me. “I’m so happy to find love, Olivia! I never imagined.”
“Nor did I,” I said, rolling to face her. “I’m happy for you, too.”
“Maybe we’ll both have babies together soon.” She touched my belly. “How is your baby? Do you feel the baby kicking or moving?”
“Not really. Sometimes I feelsomething,but then I tell myself, I imagine it.”
A strange squirming wriggled in my abdomen like baby Alexander was letting me know he was in there.
“Oh!” I exclaimed.
“What? What’s wrong?” Emily said in a high-pitched voice.
“Nothing’s wrong. Feel this.” I placed her palm over my abdomen where I’d felt the squirm.
Her eyes widened.
“Olivia! I feel it!” She lifted the fur and said, “Hello, baby! We can’t wait to meet you!”
She gave me an impulsive hug. “This is so exciting! Wait until Roman feels it. He’ll be overjoyed.”
“Yes, he will.” A wave of love for Roman, the baby, and even for Emily flooded my chest.
Emily and I lapsed into silence.
My eyelids grew sleepy from the warmth of lying next to my best friend and sister.
“Olivia,” Emily said, rousing me. Her voice contained an edge.
I opened my eyes. “What is it?”
“You know you’ve never told me about your time with Balthazar. Was it really awful?”
I frowned.
“You don’t have to tell me,” she rushed to add.
“No, I can share it. And, yes, it truly was awful. We found ourselves hanging in this dungeon. The floor was all cracked, and these horrible insects were down below. They were huge, the size of my hands. Some were as big as my face.”
Emily pressed her palm to her mouth.
“I don’t know if they were under Balthazar’s command, but they’d emerge and crawl all over us, and then he’d yell at them, and they’d skitter away.” I rubbed my arms, trying to rid myself of the memories trapped in my skin.
Emily’s face pulled back in disgust. “Oh, goodness, I can’t imagine.”
“Don’t even try. It will give you nightmares,” I said, squeezing her shoulder. I eyed her, hesitant if I should share my following thoughts. Finally, risking the topic, I said, “You know our mother wasn’t who she said she was.”
“What do you mean?” Emily said, cocking her head to the side.
“Balthazar had this wall of daggers. He said they’re from all the time travelers he’s killed.”
“Ugh! He’s such an evil man,” she said.
“He truly is. But, anyway, he had our mother’s weapon along with a vial of her blood. He poured a drop of Mom’s blood onto the blade, and the room began to glow with some of Mom’s memories.” I bit my lip, wondering how to share my thoughts.
“Go on,” Emily urged, her expression bright. “What did you see?”
“Well…” I recounted images of Mom screwing men worldwide, and I sneered. “Mom was a bit of a whore.”
