“Yes.”
“A glass of wine will help.”
I don’t want wine, but I also don’t want to argue with him. Once I pour myself a glass, he says, “Come here.”
I take a breath and stand next to him, feeling uncomfortable with his nudity. We stay silent for a while, and I hide my nervousness by taking small sips of wine.
“I also had a bad dream,” he says. “You’d think that after so many decades, old memories would be forgotten, but the mind likes to hold on to the past.”
“I know.”
He snickers. “Sorry, but you’re too young to relate.”
“You can say that about everyone.”
He nods. “True.”
“What did you dream about?”
“Sam. Not his death—his life. When he believed we would be happy once we found a new home. I do wonder why it’s not his death that haunts my dreams.”
“Maybe because his death was out of your control, but you made him believe that finding a new home was possible.”
He turns to watch me, making me tense, though there’s no anger in his eyes.
“Is that what it’s about?” He takes a sip of wine. “Interesting.” After a few moments of silence, he says, “You remind me of him. It’s in your eyes and in how you think before you speak. Maybe that’s part of why I wanted you here.”
I don’t know how to respond, and I don’t know how I feel about this, so I say, “Can I go back to sleep?”
“You don’t need my permission for that.”
Relieved, I turn to leave, but he holds my arm.
“You miss him,” he says.
“Of course I do.”
“But you don’t have to. I can bring him here for you two to spend time together.”
I feel sick, the wine climbing up my throat. “I don’t want you to make him want to be with me. He’s not your puppet.”
“I’ll give him the choice to refuse, but why would he?”
Because I don’t mean much to him anymore.I saw it in the way he looked at me. All the warmth and care were absent, as though they never existed.
In his own way, Hector is trying to be kind to me, but it’s fundamentally evil and wrong. The Caden I miss is not the one Hector can summon over to this apartment. “I’m going to sleep.”
He lets go of my arm. “Good night. Let me know if you change your mind. Caden will be more occupied soon.”
I leave him to stare at his damn city, but my sleep remains out of reach until morning.
*
“How many?” Caden asks.
“Almost two thousand with combat experience, and a similar number without.”
“Raiders don’t have combat experience—not the kind that counts.”
