“You were afraid he would’ve tried to control you,” Justin said, summing it up. “Like the others.”
“It’s what people do—they’re always trying to get power over each other. The fact that it all went down when Claudia was pregnant just made it worse. More callous control of other lives.”
“What ever happened to the baby?” asked Justin.
“I don’t know. Sent away.” He was too tired to pick up the lie in her voice, or she was just that good. She’d given him a lot, but Emil’s mysterious leads and her own obsessive inquiries over the years about Claudia’s daughter were staying inside Mae’s heart. “I was long gone by then.”
Justin’s eyelids were drooping again, and she got to her feet. The ree had long since worn off and rarely left a hangover. “Get some sleep. We can do psychoanalysis of my dysfunctional life another time.”
“Everyone’s dysfunctional. There’s no such thing as normal.” When she returned with the blanket, his eyes were closed again, but he asked, “Is it boring, not sleeping? Do you mind it?”
“No, it’s actually useful.”
“Because you can fight at a moment’s notice?”
“Well, yes…but I’ve been a bad sleeper my whole life.” The next admission wasn’t one she made often. “I used to have nightmares. But not anymore.”
“No nightmares. No dreams,” he murmured. His breathing grew regular, and she knew he was asleep. She studied him for long moments, admiring not just the lines of his face but also this rare moment of peace, when the churning of his mind wasn’t tormenting him.
She passed the night in her bedroom, spending equal parts of it ruminating over the last few days, reading, and watching documentaries. Occasionally her eyes would lift to the window as she pondered what had happened to Emil. Who was he? And what was she supposed to do about him?
When morning came, she’d reached a decision. She showered and dressed and was in the middle of making breakfast when Justin finally woke up. He seemed startled that she was cooking.
“Why would you assume I can’t?” she asked, feeling mildly offended. It was only scrambled eggs, but still.
“I figured you grew up with cooks and then just ate from a mess hall.” He winced at the light. “Got any aspirin?”
“No. I don’t use it.”
“Caffeine it is then.”
He declined the food and contented himself with a giant mug of coffee. She was also pretty sure he must have slipped in some Exerzol, because he was bright-eyed and upbeat within the hour.
“How are you spending your Sunday?” he asked.
“I’m going to see Kavi.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Is that a good idea? I mean, I wasn’t there, but by all reports, she might not take a visit well.”
“I know,” said Mae glumly. “But Whitetree told me she’s still in the hospital. I can’t believe I did that. This is something I have to understand.” The pillow talk had hit her hard. Maybe it was all this rumination on life and death, but Mae had to see for herself what she’d done to Kavi, even if it would end in ranting and hostility.
“Understood. I’ll leave you to it.” Justin downed the last of his coffee and set the empty mug next to her vase of roses. “Nice flowers. Did your gentleman caller bring them?”
“No…Lucian sent them.” She braced herself for snark, but none came. “Nothing to say?”
“You can do what you want.” But he still hesitated. “Will he get a second date?”
“He hasn’t gotten a first one.”
That satisfied Justin. He left shortly thereafter, and Mae headed to the base, which she hadn’t been out to since the funeral. The hospital wing’s receptionist directed her to Kavi’s room, which was in a secure hallway guarded by regular military. It increased Mae’s unease, but she reminded herself that a pr?torian was no ordinary patient. Of course she’d be in a special section. The room was the farthest one in the hall, again adding to its importance. The door was open, and a monitor outside it read KAVI, DRUSILLA—PRT. Mae readied herself and entered the room. No going back now.
Kavi sat up in a standard hospital bed, the broken leg wrapped in a bandaged cast. A picked-over food tray showed she’d just had breakfast, and her eyes were on a screen running a story about Lucian Darling, of all people. She turned as Mae took a few more steps forward, and then, the most astonishing thing happened.
Kavi smiled.
Mae couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen that happen. Kavi was always prickly, and even when Mae and Porfirio had dated, Kavi had never seemed impressed with her cohort brother’s girlfriend. But there was no mistaking it now. Kavi was smiling, and there was nothing forced or polite about it.
“Mae,” she said, her face filling with delight. “What a nice surprise.”
The use of her first name startled Mae almost as much as the smile. “Kavi—er, Drusilla. It’s nice to see you too. You look good.”