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Then there’s a little nudge against my ribs. I press a hand to my stomach and sigh some more, like I haven’t been doing enough of that lately.
The difference between Dad and me, even now, is astounding. I haven’t even met this little girl yet, and I want to take care of her. I want what’s best for her.
Was there ever a point where my father felt that way about me?
For the first time, I let myself consider that Mom was right. Maybe he just wants closure. To make amends.
My phone buzzes again.
DEADBEAT DAD:dont be difficult Laila. i kno ur mom wants 2 see me. be an adult about this.
DEADBEAT DAD:I’m not going anywhere.
On second thought, maybe he really is a good-for-nothing deadbeat whose talents include manipulating and then disappointing every person he meets.
I’m not going anywhere. Is that a threat? It feels like one. Figures he’d save punctuation for when he’s trying to act like a hardass.
I pocket my phone and try to focus on the task at hand: invading Arsen’s privacy.
Part of me expects the cabinet to be locked, but it opens right up. Instead of dusty bones and severed body parts falling out, I’m met with an avalanche of…
Toiletries?
There’s no other word for it. I find at least twenty plastic bags, each one neatly filled with toothbrushes, toothpaste, razors, deodorant, shaving cream. The back of the cabinet is wallpapered with teetering stacks of toilet paper and a bin overflowing with miniature shampoos and conditioners, like Arsen has been raiding hotel bathrooms.
“So he’s a hoarder,” I mutter. “There had to be a catch somewhere.”
Because being the violently-inclined head of a criminal organization wasn’t enough of a catch.
I pick up one of the bags and examine the contents. Arsen lives in a mansion with a housekeeper and devoted cronies like Dominik roaming around, all of whom would love nothing more than to make a midnight run to the drugstore to buy him lavender-scented body wash. Why on earth would he need something like this?
Voices ring out in the hall, and I panic. The package slips out of my hand and crushes my big toe.What did he fill these bottles with, liquid steel?I hiss in pain, but quickly shove everything back into the cabinet to make sure I leave no trace.
Then I rush into the hall as innocently as a person can rush, pulling the office door closed behind me. It’s only then that I recognize who is talking.
“Mom!” I fly around the corner into the foyer to find Evelyn pushing my mother’s wheelchair, Dom stumping along behind them like a pack mule.
I gesture for Mom to stay in her chair, but she stubbornly pushes to standing and wraps an arm around me. “Hi, sweetheart.Dominik and Polina were just giving us the house tour. Isn’t it amazing?”
“Amazing,” I echo, feigning enthusiasm. “Yeah. Practically paradise.”
“Mr. Adamov wants you all to be comfortable. This is your home for as long as you’d like.” Dominik tosses me a wink.
As long ashe’dlike, is more like it.
“It’s so generous of him. But—” Mom frowns. “I didn’t see any signs of mold in our house. Evelyn and I looked everywhere. Who did Mr. Adamov have do the testing?”
Dominik’s eyes widen and he glances to me for help. I bite back a smile. I’ve lied to my mom more than enough the last eight months. It’s his turn.
“Good question. Whodiddo the testing, Dominik?”
“The mold is a… a symptom,” he fumbles. “It’s a symptom of a larger problem. Which is, the, uh… the foundation. It’s cracked.”
Mom’s brows pinch together. He must think we’reallcracked if we’re supposed to buy that.
Dominik carries on. “So, yep. We need to shore the foundation and fill the cracks. Then dry out the house. And also, probably, uh… fumigate. It’s complicated, is what I’m trying to say, but rest assured, we have our best people working on it. In the meantime, Arsen wants you all to be safe and comfortable here. He wants whatever is best for the baby. Right now, that means having all of you out of that house.”
Those are the magic words, apparently. All at once, my mom relaxes. She gives me a firm smile. “Absolutely. We have to do what’s right for the baby.”
