“Was that—” He choked on the words. “Was that okay, Daddy?”
I laughed, a low, affectionate sound. “Yes, precious. Now you just stay still while I try to clean you up a little, alright?”
He nodded, eyes still closed, already halfway to sleep.
He’d made quite a mess, but he needed to rest right now more than anything. I’d make sure he showered in the morning.
And so, I cleaned him with the soft cloth, tucked the blanket around him, and lay beside him until his breathing evened out into sleep.
I didn’t sleep for a while, watching him instead, committing to memory the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the flutter of his eyelids, and the small sounds he made as he dreamed.
Mine, I thought, with a ferocity that surprised even me.
Mine to keep, mine to study, mine to protect.
The knock came early the next morning, aggravating and insistent. I extricated myself from the bed carefully, not wanting to wake Cove, and pulled on my robe before opening the door.
Ben stood in the hallway, looking uncomfortable in a way that immediately put me on edge. He was normally unflappable, efficient, invisible. If he was here, at this hour, with that expression…
“What is it?” I asked, stepping into the hall and closing the door behind me.
Ben glanced at the door, then back at me, lowering his voice. “We’ve had some inquiries. About Cove.”
I felt my body go still, every muscle tensing for fight or flight. “From whom?”
“A man named Mark. He was Cove’s supervisor at the Brisbane aquarium. He’s called the company twice in the past two weeks. Asking questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“Whether Cove is still employed here.” Ben hesitated. “He mentioned to one of the receptionists he spoke to that Cove hasn’t been active on social media and hasn’t been in touch with any of his ex-colleagues.”
I remembered Mark from Cove’s file. The supervisor who’d dismissed Cove’s needs, who’d been impatient with his processing differences, who’d made him feel small and inadequate. I’d disliked him, in the abstract way I disliked anyone who failed to recognize Cove’s value. Now I felt something colder, more dangerous.
“He’s suspicious,” I said. It wasn’t a question.
“It seems so.”
I considered my options. I could ignore him, hope he lost interest. But sometimes people like Mark didn’t lose interest—they dug deeper, asked more questions, eventually went to authorities. I could threaten him, warn him off. But that wouldonly confirm his suspicions, give him something more concrete to report.
No. There was only one solution. Mark needed to be eliminated. Not just silenced but removed entirely. A loose end that could not be allowed to unravel everything I’d built.
“Thank you, Ben,” I said, my voice steady. “I want to deal with this problem as soon as possible.”
Ben swallowed, then nodded. “Understood.”
He left, and I stood alone in the hallway. I thought about Mark, about the problem he represented, and about the solution that was already taking shape in my mind.
An invitation, maybe even from Cove himself. A tour to apologize for making him worry. I would make it easy for him to come, and impossible for him to leave.
I returned to the bedroom, sliding back under the covers beside Cove. He stirred, murmuring something unintelligible, and cuddled against me without waking. I wrapped my arm around him, feeling the warmth of his skin, the steady beat of his heart.
Mine, I thought again, and this time the word carried an edge of violence.
Mine to keep, mine to study, mine to protect—no matter what that protection required.
I smiled into the dim room, already planning the details, and held my prize closer as I waited for the sun to come up.
25
