“Stop talking,” he says flatly with not an ounce of patience, and I frown at him.
Okay, clearlyhismood fluctuates quite easily.
Meanwhile, from next to me, Lilia exhales in pure relief and immediately abandons ship, brushing off her shirt and fanning herself.
Kai, as usual, doesn’t seem too bothered about this whole thing.
I, as usual, have many concerns.
But the first real issue arises when we reach the stone stairs.
I knew it was coming, but I hadn’t thought much past the whole getting out of the car part. And I should have, because climbing stairs with a leg that only half-functions sounds about as fun as throwing myself into an open fire.
I hesitate at the base, realising there in fact, is no railing to hold onto. So I just stand there dumbly, trying to decide whether I should just power through or accept my fate and crawl up like some tragic, wounded animal.
Kai doesn’t give me the time to figure it out.
Without so much as a pause, he grips me under the arms and lifts me clean off the ground.
My feet leave the pavement entirely.
I don’t even get the chance to react before he’s already setting me down at the top, and his hands are off me immediately.
I blink. Okay then.
Kai doesn’t acknowledge the moment. Just adjusts his sleeve and keeps walking. Apparently, me leaning on him was no longer an option since we’re at the door already.
Lilia, standing by the door, is watching the whole thing play out with a bemused expression.
The door is unlocked when we reach it, and she holds it open as we step inside.
“Thank you,” I murmur as I limp past.
“My parents are gone this evening,” Lilia says, shrugging off her coat. “But they’ll be back tomorrow.”
I nod absently, my fingers flexing at my sides as my body adjusts to not freezing to death. My focus drifts around the room, taking in the house itself—the high ceilings, the polished wooden floors, the soft golden lighting. It smells like cinnamon and something floral.
Wow.
And then I notice the little face peeking out from behind the staircase. A small, round cheek. Big eyes blinking curiously. And—rabbit slippers.
Lilia follows my gaze. “And that’s Dawn.” She motions vaguely toward the small figure. “Or… half of her.”
The little girl doesn’t move.
She stays wedged behind the staircase, watching us wide eyed.
Lilia takes a step toward her, tone soft. “Dawn—”
Before she can finish, a tiny hand shoots out, grabs Lilia by the sleeve, and yanks her behind the staircase too.
Oh?
I flick a glance toward Kai, who—unsurprisingly—witnesses the entire thing with the same unreadable expression he always wears.
From behind the staircase, there’s a whispered conversation. I can’t make out the words, just the rapid pace and urgency of it.
A few moments later, Lilia emerges, dragging a much smaller, almost identical version of herself by the arm.
