Page 36 of Mile High Ruin

“No. You fix it.”

“I don’t sew.”

“You can learn.”

Apparently, that settles the matter.

I look at the rabbit. “Bring him when I come home.”

“When?”

“Soon.”

“How soon?”

I glance toward Anton. He gives me a rough estimate with his fingers.

“Three days.”

Anya smiles. “You promise?”

“Yes.”

“Promise properly.”

I know what that means.

I lift my hand. She does the same against the screen.

“I promise.”

Satisfied, she begins telling me a story about a girl at school who stole someone’s purple pencil and then denied it despite apparently still having the pencil in her hand.

I listen. I ask questions. I tell her that physical evidence generally makes lying more difficult, which earns me a look from Anton suggesting that perhaps criminal-investigation advice is unnecessary for a six-year-old.

Eventually, Nadia appears behind her. “You have tortured your uncle enough.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Anya grabs the phone closer. “Remember Boris.”

“I remember.”

“And pony.”

“There is no pony.”

“There might be.”

“Goodbye, Anya.”

She laughs.

The call ends. For a few seconds, I stare at the dark screen.

Marek is looking at me. “What?”