The kid hasn't said a word since we left the apartment.
In the building, she wouldn't shut up. Bunny this, Bunbun that, Sir Floppington the Third needs a seatbelt. But the second Liam opened the SUV door, she went silent. Pressed herself against Kristen's side like she was trying to disappear into her mother's oversized sweater.
Smart kid. Liam has that effect on people.
I watch them in the rearview mirror. Kristen's arm wrapped tight around Lily, her jaw set in that stubborn line of hers. The streetlights flash across her face as we drive and I find myself staring at details I have no business noticing.
Chestnut hair pulled back in a practical ponytail that's coming loose at the temples. Soft curves hidden under clothes that don't fit her—too big in the shoulders, too long in the sleeves. Borrowed, probably from someone twice her size.
She's beautiful.
Her beauty is soft. Is the beauty that even trying to hide it makes it imposible.
I only stare at her because I observe people. It's what I do. I could tell you the eye color of every person in that apartment building lobby, the make and model of every car parked on her street, the exact number of steps from her door to the stairwell. Noticing that Kristen Thomas has a body I'd like to see out of those baggy clothes is just data collection.
Nothing more.
Her eyes meet mine in the mirror. Defiant. Annoyed. Like I'm the inconvenience here.
If it weren't for the kid clutching her stuffed rabbits, I would've handled this differently. A few choice words about what happens to people who refuse Sartori hospitality. A reminder that gratitude isn't optional when my family extends it.
But Lily looked at me and showed me her bunny collection like I was someone worth trusting. And kids don't trust easy strangers.
Fucking hell.
The gates swing open as we approach.
"Is this a castle?" Lily whispers. First words she's said since we got in the car. I turn back to look at her.
"No," I say.
"It looks like a castle."
"It's a house."
"A really big house." She clutches the rabbits closer to her chest. "Does a princess live here?"
Kristen's arm tightens around her daughter. "Lily, don't?—"
"My sister thinks she's a princess," I say before I can stop myself. "But she's actually a pain in my ass."
Lily giggles. The sound is unexpectedly... something. I don't know. I don't have words for what it is.
Kristen stares at me like I've grown a second head. Fair enough. I don't make jokes. I don't talk to children. I don't dowhatever the hell I'm doing right now. And I certainly can't talk to a toddler like that I guess.
The SUV rolls to a stop in front of the main entrance. Liam kills the engine and steps out, moving around to open Kristen's door. She hesitates, her hand finding Lily's.
She unbuckles Lily's seatbelt and lifts her daughter onto her hip, those three stuffed rabbits wedged between them. I exit my side and come around to escort them up the stairs.
The front doors open before we reach them.
And there she is. My mother standing in the doorway.
She's wearing the blue dress. The one she wore to Riccardo's funeral because he always said it was his favorite.
Jesus Christ, Ma.
"You came!" She claps her hands together, beaming at Kristen like she's a long-lost daughter instead of a stranger who tried to cancel twice. "And this must be Lily. Che bella bambina!"
