Like Sunday mornings in my old apartment. Like before everything got complicated. Like the person I used to be before I learned what fear really felt like.
“What are you thinking?” Jasper asks quietly.
“That I miss this.” I set down the roll. “I miss being someone who has time to make cinnamon rolls. Who isn’t constantly looking over her shoulder. Who—”
My phone buzzes.
We all freeze.
I stare at it. Screen face-down on the counter. Buzzing. Insistent.
“You going to get that?” Lev asks.
“It’s probably spam.”
“Could be important.”
“It’s never important.” But I pick it up anyway.
Unknown number. International code I don’t recognize.
My heart stops.
“Mary?” Jasper’s voice sounds far away.
I stare at the screen. It’s still ringing.
What if it’s him? What if something’s wrong? What if this is the call? The one Dima and Lev would make if Anton were—
I swipe to answer. Hand shaking. “Hello?”
Static.
Crackling.
Then—
“Malyshka.”
The world whirls.
That voice. Deep. Rough. Russian accent curling around the word like it’s the only one that matters.
Anton.
“Anton?” My voice breaks. “Is that—?”
More static. His voice cutting in and out. “—hear me—”
“I can hear you. Barely. Are you…?” Tears are already falling. I can’t stop them. “Are you okay?”
“—fine—can’t talk long—”
“Where are you? What’s happening? I’ve been so—”
The static gets worse. I can barely make out his words.
“—love you—coming home—”
