Page 148 of Inked in Devotion

“It looks really nice.”

“Amber,” the mother called. “Quit bothering the nice lady.”

“No.” I rose to my feet and smiled at the mother. “I was the one who was nosy. Amber, is it?” I glanced down at the little girl. “Pretty name for a pretty girl.”

Amber preened. “She called me pretty, Mommy.”

There were tears in the woman’s eyes. “I’m sorry.” Her hiccup suppressed a sob. “Her dad called her…a—” She shook her head. “I know who you are,” she told me. “Amber is you…It gave me the courage to leave him.”

Emotions backed up my throat when I realized what she was trying to say. I clasped the woman’s shoulder and glanced past her to see her name on the screen of the kiosk. “Well, Sasha, you have help here. This is my last day officially working at the shelter, but I’ll be visiting often.” The mother looked young. As young as Aralina. “I’m going back to school.”

“Oh.” She looked wistful. “I…” Her cheeks reddened. “I had to drop out of college because⁠—”

“We have programs.” I couldn’t stop myself from nodding because I was excited to help the woman get back on her feet. I hadn’t been old enough, understanding enough, or mature enough to help my mother, but now that I’d embraced my identity and possessed the means to do so, I wanted to ease the way for struggling parents. “The NGO has college scholarships for residents who qualify.”

“Really?” Her eyes lit up.

“It’s hard to go back to school with a young child, but there are flexible programs. I’ll give Dora a call—she’s the shelter administrator, and she can help you move forward.”

“I mean…you hardly know me,” she whispered, her words clogged with tears.

I fought against letting my tears fall. Was I impulsive? I glanced at Amber, who was looking up at her mother expectantly. No. No, I wasn’t.

And when Amber said, “Mommy, I’m hungry,” I almost lost it as it brought back the memories of Renée crying at dinnertime. Thankfully, the staff in charge of resident intake came to usher Amber and Sasha into orientation.

I watched them walk away. Amber looked over her shoulder and gave me a small wave. I exhaled a couple of re-centering breaths before I strode out of the building.

Kolya was already waiting for me, his eyes on the phone, tapping away. He had assumed the brigadier position and was putting his house in order, and that meant lots of meetings, which he tolerated, but he admitted he liked the flexible schedule. It didn’t mean there weren’t nights where he was late or he didn’t come home until the next morning. But it was rare now when he came home smelling like soap.

He hadn’t seen me yet, so I took that opportunity to give Renewed Hope shelter one last look. I didn’t pay attention to the name past the brainstorming stage on what to call the foundation, but I was experiencing the meaning of those words as if it entered the tip of my head and spread across my limbs in some kind of spiritual renewal. I wished Amber and Sasha all the best.

“Chloshka?” Kolya called.

His eyes narrowed on me as I got into the passenger side.

“Is that everything?” He glanced behind him where I deposited the box.

“Yes.”

“Ready to go?”

“Yes.”

“You don’t look like you are.” He stared at me intently. “You’re crying.”

I angled my head teasingly. “How sure are you these aren’t tears of joy?” I certainly wouldn’t be missing the administrative work. Even when we’d hired an assistant for Dora, simply sitting behind the desk or attending functions and being the face of the foundation were not for me.

It was good to have choices.

Second chances and even third chances.

Kolya scrutinized my expression once more, and a grin kicked up at the corner of his mouth. “Looks like they are.”

He gunned the engine, and we headed home. Or at least I thought we were, but he’d taken the opposite direction from Kirill’s compound.

“Are we going out to dinner? We should swing by for Sebastian.”

“It’s too early for dinner.”