And without a net.
CHAPTER 20
ROMAN
Arhythm forms as the days pass.
Sasha eats better. Sleeps through the night more often than not. Even his drawings have changed. They are less abstract and more cohesive. More color. More warmth.
I found one of them taped crookedly to the fridge of three shapes holding hands. One tall. One small. One feminine, with soft edges. It’s obvious who they are meant to be.
Amalie moves through the house like she belongs, like she’s lived here for years. She doesn’t move boldly or presumptuously, but with a quiet confidence. She asks questions and remembers the answers. She listens to Sasha, to the staff, to Andrei.
I tell myself the main advantage is it’s all practical, that she’s good for my son, that she’s a good, stable presence in his life.
Still, I catch myself standing in doorways longer than necessary, watching her crouch beside Sasha as they paint, as they laugh, their heads bent together like co-conspirators. I watch the way she encourages him to try new designs, new colors. I watch the way she never rushes him when he hesitates, only encourages.
Even the tutor has told me that Sasha is approaching his school lessons with more interest.
I know it’s all due to Amalie. She’s gentle yet strong, and she’s made a genuine impact on my son. It unsettles me all the same.
One morning, I find Andrei waiting for me downstairs. I know before he speaks that something is wrong. He’s standing by one of the front windows, posture rigid, jaw set. He’s already got his coat on, gloves tucked into one pocket. Prepared. Controlled.
“Off to somewhere?” I ask.
He shakes his head, his gaze still fixed outside. “No. Just got back.”
“Tell me.”
He turns, reaches into the inner pocket of his black leather trench coat, and produces a file. It’s thick. “We should talk in your office.”
Moments later he’s pulling the door to my office shut. Then he clicks the lock.
“Worried about visitors?” I raise an eyebrow.
“You’ll realize why I’m being so cautious when you see what’s in this.” He steps over to my desk and sets the file on the corner. Then he takes a seat, his finger on his chin like he’s thinking something over.
“Stop being coy and tell me what’s in there,” I say.
“Her. In a sense.”
My pulse jumps. I pick up the file, but I don’t open it. “You went digging.”
He nods. “I did.”
“I didn’t ask you to.”
“You’re right, you didn’t.”
“Explain yourself.”
He shifts his weight, his eyes flicking to the folder again briefly before meeting my gaze. “It was when I did the deep dive on her background check. Everything came out fine for her. All of her references were clean, job history… everything. But her brother is another story.”
I sit on the edge of the desk. “Go on.”
“I tried to look him up. She told me his name was Sean. But everything seemed so clean. Too clean. His job listings were perfect. Started working at a BBQ restaurant in Logan Park, moved up until he made assistant manager. But when I called the place, I found out it went out of business two years ago. No jobs listed since then.”
“Could be an explanation for that.”
