Xavier doesn’t say another word as he leaves, likely to attempt to find Reuben, and my brows furrow as my eyes flit back to the screen.
I’m not sure what’s going on exactly, but there’s an inexplicable ripple of dread in my stomach, a single drop of disturbance inside me, like a warning that something is about to start. But the news reporter has already moved on from the murder and onto another topic, a robbery somewhere in the city.
I wish for a moment I hadn’t been half-listening to it.
After a second thought, I push away from the counter to go after Xavier, hurrying down the hall and out the door. But he’s already gone, vanished like the last tendrils of a cloud, blown away by the wind. The dread in my stomach is gone with him, as if it never was, and I’m half-convinced the lack of sleep is making me see and feel the wrong things.
I pull my phone from my pocket, only to hover over the call log. Lucia is spending time with her parents this weekend, Reuben hasn’t returned from his night of debauchery, and I don’t know where Tobias and Gabriel are on a good day.
I’m about to head inside and resign myself to boredom when I notice a tiny person sitting on the porch, completely lost in his own world. He couldn’t be more than 12 years old, with curly brown hair and a serious look uncharacteristic of his age, wearing an impeccable blue suit.
“Hey, kid.” I crouch beside him and his head snaps to me, as if he’s only noticing me for the first time. “You unsupervised? Where’s your guardian?”
The boy blinks at me, but I can tell he’s still pretty far away in that world of his when he answers, “My mom is visiting grandma—”
He immediately turns pale and looks away quickly. “B—Baachan,” he corrects himself. His pronunciation is great.
I tilt my head, “Are you afraid ofBaachan?”
He shakes his head, “She always buys me things. She’s nice to me… if I use the correct title.” He murmurs the last bit and I can’t help the smile that touches my lips when I remember the earful Reuben got for just that.
“You’re right,” I agree, “I think anyone would be scared if they upset a woman like that.”
“I’m not scared.” His glare is so icy I have to suck my cheek not to smile.
“You almost pissed yourself for calling her grandma.”
“I did not!” I didn’t think his expression could become any fiercer. “Who are you anyway? I’m not a kid!”
He must’ve really been out of it if that’s finally sinking in.
“I’m one of Reuben’s friends.”
The boy snorts, “Uncle Reuben doesn’t have friends.”
“Woah. I feel he’d be upset if you go spreading that around.”
“I don’t have to. Mama says he only surrounds himself with subordinates like you. So there’s no way he has any friends.”
Interesting. “Can’t subordinates be friends as well?”
He gives me a cold look completely unbecoming of his age, “Subordinates are subordinates. If you don’t even know that then you must not be a very good one.”
I flick his forehead without thinking and he yelps quietly before scowling, “Who taught you your manners?”
I hum, “I haven’t had anyone to teach me. Maybe you can teach me instead?”
“I have better things to do than teach you.”
“I’m sure you do,” I grin. “How about I pay you for it?”
“Mamataught me not to accept gifts from strangers,” he watches mesuspiciously and I do have to praise his talent for offending people.
“It’s not a gift, it’s a trade,” I explain patiently. “I give you $20, and you can help me figure out how to use this.” I pull out my phone for him to see and the suspicion in his eyes recedes barely a fraction.
“You don’t know how to use a phone?” he deadpans.
I don’t know whose kid you are—
