The house feels alive in a way it hasn’t in months. For once, there’s no shouting, no tension humming under the surface. Everything almost feels normal. Like we’re just another happy family. It feels like peace has settled here, thin and fragile but real enough to touch.
If I didn’t know better, I could believe it.
Petyr stands a few steps away. He’s talking in low tones with one of his men. His voice is calm, but his eyes never stop moving. He watches everything: the door, the hallway, the windows.
And me.
Especially me.
Every time someone gets too close, his focus sharpens. I can see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers flex, ready to react to the slightest threat.
Part of me feels safer because of it. He’s taking me seriously. He believes me, knows I’m not lying about what happened that night.
But the other part of me wishes he didn’t have to be this way. That could just exist like a normal couple with a new baby. Not like two people who’ve survived a war only to come home and keep fighting ghosts.
I’m relieved he trusts me now. It’s a lot from him. I know how rare Petyr’s trust is, and how precious. I know what happens when it’s lacking.
But now that I see how tightly he watches everyone, I almost wish I had been wrong and the push down the stairs really was just a bad dream.
Because the alternative makes my stomach twist.
Someone in this house lured me from my room and shoved me down the stairs, intending to hurt the baby at best or kill us both at worst. Every familiar face I pass could be the one who did it.
The thought crawls under my skin and won’t let go.
Had they meant to hurt me, though? Or was it just some cruel prank that went too far? I don’t know which is worse. I can still feel the hand at my back, the sudden weightless drop. The burn in my arm when I caught the banister.
If I hadn’t caught it?—
I stop the thought before it can finish.
I look down at Lilia sleeping in my arms instead. Her breathing is soft. She doesn’t know fear yet. She has no idea what kind of world she’s been born into.
But she’s here, and she’s safe. That’s all that matters.
Still, every time Petyr’s eyes flick across the room, sharp and searching, I know he feels it too: Something inside these walls isn’t right.
We’re home, but it doesn’t feel like home.
Not anymore.
39
PETYR
It’s a clear, cool morning when I drive to the recovery facility.
The sun is bright but soft, the kind of light that makes the city look cleaner than it really is. The air carries that early chill that reminds me summer is done.
It’s been months since I last visited. Too long.
The building sits on a quiet street, surrounded by trimmed hedges and security gates. Not a place for ordinary patients. This is where people with names, money, and enemies go to disappear while they heal.
I park, take a breath, and step out.
The guilt hits before I even reach the door.I should’ve come sooner. I should’ve made time.
I tell myself that, every day since Dimitri’s awakening, there has been another fire to put out: Sima’s disappearance, the war with the Danilos, and now, the baby.
