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“Yeah! Like a raven! Or a secret ninja!” He squeezes my cheeks tighter, squishing my lips together until I probably look ridiculous. “They’re super pretty. People with boring brown eyes are boring. Your eyes are like… like nighttime when there aren’t any stars.”

“People say they’re creepy,” I say around my squished cheeks.

“People are stupid,” he declares. “I like them. My name is Ilya, by the way! Ilya Vladimir-something Solovyov, but that’s too long, so just Ilya!”

He lets go of my face, grabs my right wrist with both hands, and hauls me toward a moss-covered concrete retaining wall that separates the sidewalk from an overgrown park.

“Sit down. Your legs look tired.”

I let him pull me, then I sit.

Ilya scrambles up beside me on his stomach, then flips around so his legs dangle over the edge. His sneakers don’t come within a foot of the grass. He swings his heels back and forth, kicking against the stone.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

“Okay,” Ilya says, crossing his legs at the ankles. “Important question. Why are you out here looking like a wet stray cat? Did you run away from your chores?”

I look at him sideways. “Did you?”

“Pfft! No! I am a political fugitive.”

I raise an eyebrow. “A what?”

“A fugitive!” He puffs out his chest proudly. “My new big brother was being a giant pipihead. A supreme pipihead. So I climbed out the bathroom window.”

“You jumped out a window?”

“It wasn’t that high! Only like… ten miles!” He gestures wildly with both arms. “I did a ninja roll in the bushes. I have dirt on my elbow to prove it.”

He thrusts his left elbow at my face. There is indeed a smear of black potting soil across the pale skin.

“See? Tactical combat.”

A sound comes out of my chest.

A laugh.

I haven’t laughed in a long time.

“Your brother is probably terrified,” I say.

Ilya waves a dismissive little hand. “Nah. He’ll find me. He always sniffs around like a bloodhound whenever I escape. He’s annoying like that.”

He pauses, looking up at me through his messy bangs. “Do you have a brother?”

“Rei,” I say, the name slipping past my teeth. “His name is Rei. But he’s… far away.”

“Why didn’t you bring him?”

“I couldn’t.”

“That’s dumb. Brothers have to stay in a pile,” Ilya says firmly, as if quoting a law. “Like puppies. If you separate the puppies, they get cold and then they bark all night. Everyone knows that. Well, unless your brother is like my brother.”

I look down at the bag of raspberry candy in my lap. “He’s safer where he is.”

Ilya stops swinging his feet and leans over, squinting at my shoulder. The cotton fabric tore during my scramble over the iron fence.

“You’re bleeding,” he says. His voice isn’t bossy anymore. It is quiet.