Page 117 of Bought By the Ruthless Pakhan

His fingertips were cold. He'd been holding on too long.

I pulled him closer. He stood on his toes, scrambled onto the edge of the bed, and sat beside me. His shoulder pressed against my arm. Like a small animal that had just found its nest.

"I drew you a picture," he said.

He unfolded the wrinkled paper and spread it across my lap.

Three stick figures held hands. One had long hair. One was small. One was tall.

Beside them was Nadia. And now there was another figure—smaller, freshly drawn, colored in pale pink. Like a soft little puff of cotton that hadn't bloomed yet.

"Is it a brother or a sister?"

He looked up at me. His gray-blue eyes sparkled. Serious. Like he was asking something important.

I looked down at the pale pink smudge. Then I looked at Ivan.

He stood at the foot of the bed. In his hand was a larger drawing—the framed crayon picture he'd brought from home.

Three people in that one too. Himself. Nadia. And a long-haired figure with no face.

But now he pulled a gold pen from his jacket pocket. Bent down. Carefully drew a small, crooked figure in the blank space. Then added a little bud of warm yellow, still forming.

I recognized it.

This was Nadia's drawing.

Both kids had drawn the same family portrait.

Ivan set the picture on the nightstand. The sunlight fell perfectly on the new little figure.

Then he straightened and looked at me. His gray-blue eyes gleamed in the light. Bright as an entire sea pierced by the sun.

The door opened again.

Nadia stood in the doorway, holding a stuffed rabbit almost as big as she was. Its ears dragged on the floor.

She walked in quietly. Like she was afraid to wake someone. But when she saw I was awake, her gray-brown eyes curved into little crescents.

She came to the bedside. Set the rabbit on my leg. Its ears flopped across my knee. Soft. Still fluffy with that new, unopened texture.

She didn't speak. Just reached out and touched Alex's fingertips. Their hands rested together. Like two fledglings learning to lean on each other.

I leaned back against the pillow. Alex's drawing in my hand. Nadia's rabbit by my leg. Sunlight poured through the window, turning the whole room a soft, warm gold.

I looked at them. At Ivan standing in the light. Sleeves still rolled. The red mark still on his wrist. But he stood there like someone who'd finally reached shore. Who didn't need to drift anymore.

I lowered my head. Rested my hand on my abdomen.

It was still flat. I couldn't feel anything yet. But I knew it was there.

Small. Quiet. Like a seed just planted in the soil. Slowly taking root.

The light fell on my fingers. On Alex's head. On Nadia's hair. On Ivan's shoulders. It melted the whole world into something warm. Whole. Without cracks.

Epilogue

Anna