A minute.
Like that makes this better.
I look down at Sebastian, flushed and exhausted, his little body leaning into mine for comfort.
Then back at Anika.
Then at Luke.
My stomach twists. I already know this is a mistake, but the damage is done.
I help Sebastian into his pyjamas and tuck him into bed. He looks miserable, with his little cheeks flushed, and his lashes heavy with exhaustion. I set a bucket beside him, and measure out some children’s paracetamol, waiting while he swallows it with a grimace.
“I’ll stay close, okay,” I tell him softly. He nods, already curling into the pillows.
By the time I go back to check on Anika, Luke is just leaving.
Thank God.
I wait until I hear the elevator doors close before stepping fully into the room.
“Are you okay?” I ask.
Anika doesn’t answer straight away. She’s staring at the doorway like she can still see him standing there.
“Ray can never know Luke was here, Wynter.” Her voice is low, urgent. “I mean it. It’s really important.”
A knot forms in my stomach, but I nod anyway. “Okay.”
She lets out a breath, but she still looks tense. “It’s hard enough stopping him from killing Luke as it is.”
The words catch me off guard. “Killing him?” I repeat, letting out a small, uncertain laugh.
Anika doesn’t smile. She doesn’t even blink. A chill skates down my spine, because it doesn’t sound like a figure of speech at all.
By teatime, Sebastian is feeling much better. He’s still a little pale, but the colour has come back to his cheeks, and his temperature has dropped enough for me to stop hovering over him every five seconds.
I take him into the kitchen and suggest we bake.
I used to do it with Mum when I was younger, and these days I’ve got more time on my hands than I know what to do with. We find a recipe online, and I start pulling ingredients from the cupboards while Sebastian reads out measurements like a tiny, bossy head chef.
He’s annoyingly good at it too.
“I wish Alga was this nice,” he says, tipping flour into the bowl with surprising precision.
I glance at him. “You don’t like her?”
I’ve only met his nanny a couple times, but she seems pleasant enough.
Sebastian shrugs. “She’s okay. She just likes Uncle Ray too much.”
I laugh, reaching for the eggs. “What does that mean?”
“She’s always asking questions about him.”
“That doesn’t sound too terrible.”
“It is when you don’t want to answer them.” He wrinkles his nose. “So, I told her he had a girlfriend.”
