By the time I'm dressed in jean shorts and a loose white button-down that falls off one shoulder, the housekeepers have made significant progress.
I decide to give them space and find Pasha instead.
Sir Isaac trots alongside me. This place is still a maze, all hardwood floors, high ceilings, and windows that let in light but somehow make the outside world seem farther away.
I find Pasha in what I've come to learn is his "STEM room," a converted bedroom filled with more robotics equipment than most science labs.
He's sitting cross-legged on the floor, surrounded by tiny metal parts, his dark hair falling across his forehead as he squints at something in his palm.
"Knock knock," I say, tapping on the doorframe. "Mind if we crash your mad scientist lab?"
His head jerks up, and his face breaks into a smile so wide my chest cracks open.
Eight-year-olds shouldn't be able to make me emotional with just a look. But here we are.
"Elle! Look what Papa got me!" He holds up a box with a picture of a small robotic arm. "It's a robot that can pick up things on its own!"
"No way." I step inside, Sir Isaac on my heels. "That looks intense. Are you building it yourself?"
"I could." He shrugs. "But it's more fun with someone else. Want to help?"
And just like that, I'm recruited.
I settle on the floor beside him as he spreads the parts out between us like a tiny mechanical buffet.
"Do you do this with your friends too?" I ask.
"I go to school with other kids, but none of them like building stuff as much as me," he explains, handing me a screwdriver. "They're okay, but..."
"But what?" I frown, already struggling with a stubborn screw.
His voice goes small. "They think I'm weird for liking this stuff. And I'm bigger than all of them."
"Bigger?"
"Taller. Stronger." He flexes one skinny arm, and I bite my lip to keep from smiling. "Yuri called me a giant last week."
"Well, I would take that as a compliment. Wish I could have been a giant right about the age of whenever wolves started being a thing." Pasha's forehead wrinkles in confusion. "Never mind. Bad joke."
"Is being big bad?" he asks, suddenly very focused on connecting two metal pieces.
My heart cracks. "No, little bear. Being big is amazing. You can always protect the people you love."
"Like Papa protects us?"
"Exactly like that." I smile. "And now that Sir Isaac will be living with you..."
"He will?" Pasha jumps to his feet, looking at the cat like he can't believe it, then at me like I've just made his entire year.
"Your father doesn't want him in his room, kid. Looks like it's your lucky day."
"No way!" he squeals, launching himself into my arms. His little body softens against mine, shoots straight into my heart. I hold him tighter for a moment, breathing in that child-smell of soap and grass and innocence, before letting go.
I'm still warm and fuzzy when he sits back down.
We work in comfortable silence for a while. Building the robot is easy enough once I get the hang of it.
"So tell me more about your school," I say as we attach the robot's main arm.
