I blink.
Well done?
The praise is disorienting.
I’d steeled myself for punishment—for his voice to twist into fury. I’d prepared to bite back my fear while he lashed me with accusations, while he reminded me what failure costs and for the sound of my child crying in the background while begging to be let go.
But this is last thing I expected.
For a moment, my thoughts scatter, colliding uselessly in the corners of my mind.
Unless…
My gaze flicks to the curling steam rolling across the mirror, my own expression blurred and shapeless. Does this mean his relationship with Emily is a façade? A performance?
No. That doesn’t seem right… It doesn’t make sense.
If she were just another pawn in his endless game, he wouldn’t have trusted her with Leo. He wouldn’t have let her come and go as she pleased that day, slipping him out of my arms and taking him away from me. That freedom she’d had had been real.
I’d seen it.
Which makes this even worse. Because if Emily isn’t a pawn, then she’s something else. Something that makes her just as dangerous as Mikhail himself. There is no sugarcoating the kind of man he is or pretending he’s anything else aside from a monster. And the thought of Leo being in her hands, under her watch and being shaped by her presence, makes my stomach twist until bile creeps up the back of my throat.
I clutch the phone tighter, knuckles aching white, unsure if I should push further or stay silent.
Either choice feels like a trap.
“How’s Leo?” I ask, the question tumbling out before I can think better of it.
“He is doing well. He has many drawings he’s eager to show you once you both reunite. Some of them are quite dark. He has talent,” Mikhail replies smoothly.
The image hits me like a punch to the gut and a balm all at once. As happy as I am to hear he’s being taken care of, as well as can be, at least, thinking about my son sitting somewhere in that facility trying to make sense of a world I let him get dragged into tears me apart.
I swallow hard, forcing my voice to steady. “Can I talk to him?”
Silence stretches across the line. I can almost see Mikhail leaning back in his chair, can almost hear the click of his tongue as he thinks my question over and over in his head. Finally, when he speaks, I’m surprised to hear him say, “I suppose you’ve earned the right seeing as how you’ve been able to weave yourself back into Maksim’s good graces so easily. Hold one moment.”
The air leaves my lungs in a rush. Relief hits me so suddenly, it makes me dizzy. God, I hope this isn’t a trap.
I grip the edge of the counter until my knuckles blanch, trying to anchor myself. This could still be a game, an elaborate way to torture me, to dangle the thing I want most right in front of me, only to rip it away at the last second because he’s actually secretly angry with me.
There’s a soft shuffle on the line followed by the sounds of what I can only guess is a door opening. Then a small voice, faint and muffled, bleeds into the background.
“Mama?” Leo says into the receiver.
I sink onto the edge of the tub, one hand clapped over my mouth to hold in the sob clawing up my throat, the other clutching the phone so tight in my hand that it shakes. I want to so badly reach through the phone and grab him, pull him to me, and crush him against me while vowing to never let go.
God, I missed him. I missed hearing his little voice and the soft lisp of his words.
My voice cracks, breaking on his name. “Leo? Baby, it’s me. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” His voice is small. It’s tired, but it’s him. It’s really him. The cadence, the little rasp at the end of his words, it’s all there.
I squeeze my eyes shut, clutching the phone like a lifeline.
“I miss you,” he says softly.
My voice shakes, but I don’t care. Let Mikhail hear it. “I miss you too, sweetheart. So much. You’re being so brave. I’m so proud of you.”
