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She looks up at the same moment I notice her.

“Elle!” Anya cries, dropping the book and sliding off the chair.

“Good morning to you too,” I say, barely getting the words out before she reaches the bed.

She throws her arms around me.

I make a small, involuntary noise as pain shoots through my shoulder, but I wrap my good arm around her anyway.

Anya immediately pulls back.

“Did I hurt you?” she asks, her face falling.

“Only a little,” I say, smiling at her. “I've been told I have significant soft-tissue trauma, which sounds much more impressive than it feels.”

She looks concerned. “I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. I survived your hug, and I intend to brag about it extensively.”

That makes her smile again. Thankfully, she’s nothing like her father. Even physically they don’t look much alike. Which makes it easier to not to think of her as the daughter of the scary boss man.

She climbs carefully onto the edge of the bed after I make room for her, taking great pains not to touch my injured side.

“You slept for a really long time,” Anya says.

“I did. It was incredible.”

“Papa said you needed to rest.”

“Your papa seems to be right about several things, which is unfortunate because I was hoping to find quite vexing.”

She laughs. “You talk funny.”

“What I meant was he can be annoying at times,” I explain.

“He is annoying sometimes,” she says matter of factly.

“I knew it.”

“He makes me eat vegetables even when I don't like them.”

“Unforgivable.”

“And he makes me go to bed at eight-thirty.”

I look at her. “Honestly, at this point, eight-thirty sounds like a luxury.”

She considers that, then reaches for the glass of water on my bedside table. “Do you want some?”

“Please.”

She hands it to me with both hands, watching carefully while I drink.

There is something oddly grown-up about the way she does it. Most children her age would have asked me sixteen questions by now or become bored with the quiet, but Anya seems content simply to sit beside me, making sure I have what I need.

I wonder how much of that comes from being raised in a house full of adults.

And how much comes from not having a mother.