I could feel the tension radiating from Anna's body.
Despite her attempts to act normal, her hands trembled slightly and her eyes kept darting toward the window—classic signs of someone who'd been rattled. I knew fear intimately. In this city's underbelly, threats and intimidation were daily bread. I'd seen too many people react this way when danger came calling.
I didn't press her—forcing a frightened person to talk only made them clam up tighter. Instead, I moved closer and gently took her hand. Her skin was ice-cold, which broke my heart. I rubbed her knuckles with my thumb and spoke softly.
"Sofia was an angel today. We made chocolate chip cookies together. She said she wanted to wait for you to come home so we could taste them together."
I felt her muscles slowly relax under my touch, the tight lines around her eyes softening.
Good.
"She also painted something—said it's your birthday gift. Even though your birthday's months away." I kept my tone light, drawing her away from whatever darkness was consuming her. "You knowwhat she told me? 'Alex, Mommy's birthday has to be the most special day ever, so I need to start preparing now.'"
Anna finally looked at me, the terror in her eyes fading slightly. "She's always so thoughtful."
"Just like her mother." I stroked her cheek, feeling the warmth return to her skin. "Whatever happened, you know I'm here, right?"
She nodded, but I could see the worry still gnawing at her. I wouldn't force her to tell me what had happened, but I'd find out my own way. Nobody hurt the people I cared about and walked away clean.
"Sofia asked me something else today," I continued, using everyday conversation to ground her completely. "She wanted to know why my eyes are the same color as hers. Guess what I told her?"
Anna shook her head, curiosity flickering in her expression.
"I said maybe it's because we both like looking at the same beautiful things—like her mother's smile." I chuckled. "She thought about it real hard, then nodded seriously and said, 'Then we definitely should have the same eyes, because Mommy's the prettiest.'"
That got Anna laughing—really laughing, from deep inside. Seeing that genuine smile spread across her face, I knew the immediate crisis had passed. But underneath, cold fury was building.
Someone was going to pay.
At dinner, I made sure the mood stayed light.
"Sofia, riddle time," I said, cutting her steak into bite-sized pieces. "What has four legs, goes woof, and loves chewing bones?"
"A doggy!" Sofia squealed, waving her little hands in the air. "Too easy! My turn! Alex, listen really carefully!"
She scrunched up her face in concentration, looking exactly like Anna when she was deep in thought. "What can fly, is really pretty, and has lots of colors?"
"A butterfly?" I pretended to consider it carefully.
"Yes!" She clapped excitedly, then turned to Anna. "Mommy, you do one! All three of us should play!"
Anna smiled—God, finally a real smile on her face. She thought fora moment. "What shines bright in the sky, shows you the way at night, but disappears during the day?"
"Stars!" Sofia answered immediately. "Mommy, that one was easy too!"
"That's because you're brilliant." Anna kissed her forehead. "My little genius."
Watching their mother-daughter bond, I felt something I'd never experienced before. This was what I wanted—not the bloody family wars, not the life-or-death games, but these simple, pure family moments.
But my instincts stayed sharp. Every time a car passed, Anna's body went rigid for a split second. Every unexpected sound made her go on high alert. She tried hiding it, but I caught every tell.
This kind of reaction had only one cause—someone had threatened her.
In New York, journalism was a dangerous profession, especially for reporters who dug into corruption and crime. Too many journalists had "accidents" after uncovering the wrong secrets. The thought made my hands curl into fists.
"Alex, what's wrong with your hand?" Sofia noticed my clenched fist.
I relaxed immediately, smiling warmly. "Nothing, sweetheart. Just thinking about what to cook for you tomorrow."
