“That’s cheating,” I whispered.
No one had ever touched me like this. Kind. Caring. Like I deserved it.
“I wish they didn’t make you kneel for so long.”
“It’s nothing.” I’d been through worse at the sweatshop. Whips to my hands and legs if I was too slow. Every dollar counted at home.
Elise leaned her head against my shoulder and hummed a tune I didn’t recognize.
“What’s that?”
“Beethoven’s ‘Für Elise.’” She continued her doodles on my hand.
I stilled, my heart jolting like it wanted to claw out of my chest to reach her.
“You’re different from the boys at home. They’re spoiled, rich brats. Spending money they didn’t earn.” She took my hands in hers, rubbing life back into them.
Her eyes widened comically wide.
“What?” I grunted.
“You think the writer of that song, ‘The Twelve Days of Christmas,’ was a rich, spoiled brat?”
I snorted. “What?”
Elise grinned and clutched my hand tightly. “Think about it! The stupid lyrics. A partridge in a pear tree? Lords leaping? Milkmaids? Why would anyone want to give their true love all that crap for Christmas? Or better yet, who’d think that was a good idea? Someone with a lot of money and nothing better to do.”
She pursed her lips like she were taking this seriously. “Although I’d give anything to see this live. It must look ridiculous.”
Something tingled in my chest. She was so adorable. “So you’d say no to the five golden rings too?”
“Oh, the rings I’ll keep,” she answered resolutely. I laughed, and she narrowed her eyes. “You’re making fun of me!”
Biting my lip, I shook my head, feeling lucky I got to experience the world through her eyes, even if just for a moment.
We smiled at each other, and she linked our fingers together.
“You ever think about what you want to be when you grow up?” she asked.
“Alive.” I grimaced because that sounded too sad for my princess’s ears. “Fix things. Animals, maybe?”
“You’d be good at that.”
My heart fluttered. No one had ever said that to me before.
I hummed and kicked my feet in the water. My palms sweated, but I still lifted my arm to curl around her.
Would she let me?
She giggled when I touched her gently on her shoulder. “The other day, I said you were short for your age. But it’s not so bad being shorter. Just the right height for me. Maybe you missed puberty because you were waiting for me.”
She then sighed and snuggled closer.
It was then her rosewater scent seared into my memory.
Chapter 17: CITY OF GHOSTS
Present: Chicago
