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“Cheers,” Gedeon agrees as we clink our cups together.
I take a gingersnap even though I have no appetite. “I miss my mom.”
Just like that, the mood deflates. Gedeon’s knee bounces the same way it does every time things get personal.
“You speak to her every day,” he offers, though even he knows it’s not enough.
“She’s fading, Gedeon.” My chin wobbles, and I do my damnedest not to let the tears fall. Fuck knows I’ve let enough of them fall already. “What if she dies and I’m not with her?”
“I’m sure Arsen would tell us if she gets really?—”
“Arsen hasn’t spoken to me in over three months!” I snap. “His obligatory,I-don’t-give-a-shit-about-you-but-I-have-to-keep-up-appearancestexts stopped coming two months ago. He doesn’t care about me or my mother.”
“Laila—”
“If you even try to defend him, I’m throwing the rest of my tea in your face.” His lips seal shut as I angle my mug towards him. “Now, what were you gonna say?”
“Erm… that Arsen’s an asshole?”
“That’s what I thought.”
Just then, Gedeon’s phone rings, making us all jump. Nina starts to fuss, so I rush over to scoop her up before our downstairs neighbor grabs a broom and starts banging for us toStop waking up the whole building, goddammit!
I’m shushing her, swaying back and forth when Gedeon answers his phone. “Arsen?”
I can’t help it—I flinch. Gedeon talks to Arsen somewhat regularly, but the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end each and every time.
I try to ignore them and focus on Nina as she starts to settle against my chest.
Then Gedeon whistles soft and low. “Okay. I understand.”
He hangs up a second later and turns to me. That’s strange in and of itself. Usually, he avoids me after a call with Arsen, like he knows I don’t want to be infected by overlapping contact. Considering the threat I just made about pouring boiling hot tea on him, I’m surprised he’s even willing to say his name in my presence.
I balance Nina on my hip. “Is it about my mom? Is she okay?”
He clears his throat, his gaze sliding over to the duffel he deposited on the coffee table. “It’s a good thing you’re all packed. It looks like we’re heading out.”
“Out? Out where?”
“Home,” he breathes. “Arsen wants to bring you back.”
4
LAILA
“This is what you wanted,” Gedeon reminds me. “You wanted Arsen to bring you home.”
He’s not wrong. When Arsen first shipped us off, “home” was all I wanted. But now, it feels no better than being moved from one cell to another.
Like prisoners. Like cattle.
Nina’s chubby little hand grazes my face. I kiss it gently, my vision going blurry as I imagine walking back into that house and pretending nothing has changed.
“I want to see my mother—to be there for her. That’s all I want,” I correct. “Nowhere in there do I plan to see or speak to Arsen.”
I’ll add the rest of the senses while I’m at it—no smelling, no touching, and definitely no tasting. It’s going to be a full-scale Arsen Adamov embargo. For all I care, he might as well no longer exist.
Gedeon sighs. “That might be a little hard to do while living under the same roof.”
