I feel my cheeks warm. "You're obsessed."
"Completely."
The gates of my father's estate loom in front of us. Ilay's leg bounces in the passenger seat, his fingers drumming against his thigh.
"Stop," I say.
"Stop what?"
"The tapping. You're making me nervous too."
His leg stills. He looks out the window. "I'm doing this for you."
"I know."
I reach over and take his hand.
The gates swing open. Viktor drives us up the long driveway lined with trees, their branches bare against the gray sky. When we pull up to the front of the house, I can see them all waiting. My father on the steps with his arms crossed. Kirill and Roman standing with him. And Tessa.
I'm out of the car before it fully stops.
My father meets me halfway, pulling me into his arms so hard I can barely breathe. His shoulders shake and I realize he's crying.
"Papa," I whisper.
He doesn't say anything. Just holds me tighter.
When he finally lets go, Kirill is there, wrapping his arms around me and lifting me off the ground. "Don't ever do that again."
"I won't," I promise.
Roman hugs me next, gentler than Kirill but just as fierce. "We were worried."
"I know. I'm sorry."
Then Tessa is running toward me and we collide in a mess of arms and tears and laughter.
"I missed you," she says into my hair.
"I missed you too." I pull back to look at her before squeezing her again. She's fuller now, healthier, her cheeks have color and her eyes are bright. "Are you okay?"
"Watch the ribs," she says, wincing as I squeeze her tighter.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." I let go immediately.
"I'm fine." She grins. "Still healing, but fine."
Then her gaze shifts over my shoulder. Her entire body goes rigid.
I turn and see Ilay standing a few feet behind me, hands in his pockets.
"Not dead yet?" he says. "You're like a cockroach."
Tessa lunges past me, fingers curled into claws, going straight for his face with a scream.
"Tessa, no!" I grab her around the waist and haul her backward.
She thrashes in my arms. "Let me go! Let me—"
