I spy Nikolai and Uri emerge from one side of the SUV—but still no Polly.
Quickly, I punch in the code and push the door open. They troop in one by one, all looking weary but calm. The last in is Uri and he has Polly in his arms. She’s clinging to him tightly, looking fragile as ever in a thin, sleeveless slip that hangs off her bony frame.
Her face is hidden in Uri’s chest. At first, I assume she’s sleeping. But then I notice her head lift once the door’s shut.
“Polly.”
Her head snaps in my direction. Her eyes go wide. “You’re starting to show,” she whispers softly.
I promised myself I wouldn’t cry, but I’m losing that battle already. I venture towards her, unsure if I should touch her or not. I want to, just to make sure she’s real, that she’s really here.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so glad you’re home.”
She nods but says nothing.
Uri goes upstairs with her. I follow along, then rush ahead so I can open the door to one of the empty bedrooms.
He is about to set her down on the duvet when she starts frantically shaking her head. “No. Don’t! I’m so dirty. I don’t want to touch anything.”
“It doesn’t matter, Polly.”
“It does. It does,” she insists with a fervor that reminds me of Lev. “I’m dirty.”
Uri looks at me helplessly and I feel his pain. I rush forward and put my hand on Polly’s arm. “I can get you cleaned up, Polly. Would you be okay with that?”
She stares at me. Those eyes are huge and scared, flitting side to side like they see things in the shadows that no one else can see.
“Come on,” I say to Uri. “Let’s take her to the bathroom.”
He scoops her up again and carries her in before gently settling her on the side of the tub where I point. “Thank you. I’ll take it from here.” He glances at me and I can see the turmoil raging in his eyes. I slide my hand up and down his back. “It’s okay; I’ll take care of her. Pinky promise.”
With a solemn nod, he slips out quietly, leaving Polly with me.
I turn on the faucet, making sure it’s hot before I add bubbles and bath salts. Polly watches me wordlessly. Those eyes of hers never stop moving. Like she’s gotten so used to checking for demons in the shadows that she doesn’t know how to stop now.
Once the tub is filled, I turn to her. “Ready to get clean?”
I help her undress, dumping her ruined clothes right into the trash can. Then, with one hand on her back and another holding hers, I lower her into the bathtub. A trembling breath passes her lips as she sinks below the surface of the suds.
She closes her eyes and sighs deeply. She doesn’t say a thing and I decide not to break the silence until she’s ready.
After about thirty minutes or so have passed, the water’s started to go cold. “Are you ready to come out?” I ask.
She shakes her head immediately. “No. Not yet.”
I run the tap again to refresh the warm water. When I cut it back off, the silence seems denser than ever. She shudders against the comforting swirls of steam that rise out of the tub.
“Who knew heaven was a tub of hot water?” she croaks.
I sit by the side of the tub and trail my fingers through the water, making ripples in the soapy crests and valleys.
“Alyssa…” I raise my head when she says my name. “Why aren’t we home?”
I consider telling her the truth, but I don’t want her to worry about Sobakin. She’s had enough worry for a lifetime already. “It’s just an extra safety measure that your brother decided to take. We’ll be back at the estate in no time, I’m sure.” She’s still wary, so I clear my throat and add, “Uri said you used to come here when you were very little.”
She nods. “I remember it from pictures. Feels like another lifetime ago. Everything does.”
I grab her hand, intertwining her pruney fingers with mine. “If you want to talk about it, you know I’m here for you.”
“I know. I just… I don’t think I can just yet.” Her bottom lip trembles. “I was so scared that I’d never see any of you again.”
“Me, too,” I admit. “The last few weeks without you were torture. I’m so glad you’re back, Pol. I’m so glad you’re safe.”
We fall quiet again. The only sound is her breathing and mine and the plinking of water against the sides of the tub. Then her stomach rumbles.
I smile. “Can I get you anything to eat?”
“Chocolate,” she mumbles. “I kept dreaming about chocolate.”
I get to my feet, grateful for something to do. “You got it. I’ll be right back, okay?”
Uri is the only one in the kitchen when I get there. He looks up at me in alarm, more scared than I’ve ever seen him before. “Is she… Did he…?”
I shake my head. “She’s hurting, but I think… I think she’ll be okay.” I step closer to him and cup his face. “You’re an amazing brother, Uri. You brought her back home.”
“But is it too late?” he wonders.
I shake my head again. “She’s still in there. She’s just been through a lot. We need to give her time. We need to be there for her.”
“Thank you, Alyssa,” he says quietly, his eyes heavy with the weight of his words. “For taking care of my sister as though she’s your own.”
I place my hand on my stomach. “These babies make us family now.”
He bends down and kisses me gently on the lips. And for the first time in weeks, this kiss is free from guilt or sadness or fear.
This kiss feels like a new beginning.
It feels like hope.
35
URI
Alyssa radiates exhaustion when she slips into our room that night. That’s clear enough even in the dark. There’s moonlight streaming in through the gable windows and it pours onto her face. She looks like an angel. A tired angel, yes, but still as beautiful as the diamond-encrusted sky outside.
I lean off to the side and turn on the bedside lamp. She yelps and whips around in place. “You’re awake,” she murmurs when she sees me.
“Couldn’t sleep.”
The truth is, I could sleep. Tonight is the first night in forever that I feel like I could close my eyes and pass out for days and days.
I just didn’t want to sleep without her.
“How’s she doing?” I ask instead of saying any of that.
“Sleeping.”
She starts undressing, shucking off her dress and discarding it onto the divan in front of the bed. When she turns to the side, I admire her silhouette. She’s so gorgeous in the half-shadows, in the beams and patches of silvery moonglow. She’s flawed and flawless and perfect and mine.
As she crawls into bed, she adds, “It took a while. She was tired, but I think she’s scared to sleep. Nightmares.”
I nod, doing my damndest to ignore my stiffening erection. “Understandable.”
“I think she was relieved to be in normal clothes,” Alyssa mumbles. “She ate a lot, though it took a while. Then we stayed up talking for a bit. I did most of the talking. It just felt like she wanted to listen to normal things. Household things, pregnancy things. Stuff that can’t hurt her. I—”
When she interrupts herself with a yawn, I raise my eyebrows. “You need rest, too, Alyssa.”