The way she says it makes me laugh so hard.
"The point is," Moira continues, "Lorenzo didn't survive this long by being careless; it takes skills, knowledge. And from what I saw, your Anton isn't exactly amateur hour either."
"He's not mine."
Moira pushes herself up from the sofa with careful movements, one hand supporting her lower back. She waddles to the massive four-poster bed and begins arranging what looks like half the pillows in Rhode Island behind her.
"God, I can't get comfortable anymore." She settles back against the mountain of cushions, propping herself at an angle that keeps her from lying completely flat. A soft groan escapes as she finally finds a position that works. "Men can be complicated."
The overhead lights flicker for just a second. So brief I almost miss it.
"It's just been one hell of a day. I want to make sure you're tucked in and surrounded by at least ten guards before I go to my side of the mansion."
"Did you see that?" Moira adjusts another pillow behind her shoulder. "The lights?"
"Yes, I did!"
"It happens from time to time." She waves dismissively. "Lorenzo says it's related to their security system. Something about power draws when they run diagnostics on all the cameras and sensors." She shifts again, trying to find the perfect angle.
I nod, but an uneasy feeling crawls up.
"Fee, all I'm saying is that you're safe here."
"You know me, my brain won't shut off."
"Is it really just fear? Or is there something else eating at you?"
"I thought he'd say goodbye and he just left. He carried me in here, then disappeared."
Moira's expression softens with understanding. "Oh, honey."
"I'm being ridiculous. The man saved my life today. He's just confusing, like he sends mixed signals. I don't want to get my hopes up."
"You have every right to feel that way." She adjusts another pillow. I push myself up from the chair, leaving the crutches where they lean against the armrest.
"Aren't you supposed to not put pressure on that foot?"
"It's just a few steps." I test my weight carefully, finding I can balance on my heel without pain shooting through the stitches. "I look ridiculous, but it doesn't hurt if I use only one part of my heel."
I make my way awkwardly to the bed, and Moira scoots over to make room. I lean down to hug her carefully.
"Good night, sister." I kiss her forehead, then place my hand gently on her belly. "And good night to you, too, little one. Stop kicking your mama so much, okay? She needs her rest."
As if responding to my voice, the baby shifts under my palm. Moira laughs. "He only does that for you and Lorenzo."
"Smart boy. He knows who the important people are." I kiss her belly softly. "Sweet dreams."
I hobble back to retrieve my crutches, the ridiculous heel-walking making me feel like a broken flamingo.
I pause at the door. "I love you, Moira."
"I love you too, Fee. Try to get some sleep."
I open the door to find a guard stationed directly outside Moira's bedroom. He's young, maybe mid-twenties, with the kind of alertness that comes from knowing your job matters.
"Good night, Miss Quinn."
"Good night." I adjust my grip on the crutches. "Thank you for watching over her."
