Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 62994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62994 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
I walk out of the office and find her sitting on the couch, eating a bowl of cereal, the tiny knitted baby hat resting carefully on her lap. She hasn’t let it out of her sight since our talk about the Bratva a few days ago. It’s become a talisman to her. Her hand rests near it, fingers twitching like she wants to pick it up but doesn’t want to let herself soften.
“Molly,” I say from the doorway.
She looks up quickly. Her eyes flick over me once and then settle on something near my shoulder instead of meeting my gaze directly. That twist in my chest tightens again.
“Yes?”
“I need a favor,” I tell her. “Davýd’s nanny called out sick today, and I really need him to come to a meeting tonight.”
She straightens immediately at my words. She seems all at once curious, afraid, and hopeful. I don’t really understand her reaction, but I remind myself not to push.
“How can I help?” she asks, confused.
“Davýd needs someone to take care of his daughter. I was thinking maybe you could watch her.”
Her face softens in a way I haven’t seen in days. “How old is she?”
“Four.”
There’s no hesitation in her answer.
“I’d be happy to watch her.”
Relief washes through me, and I nod.
“I’ll tell Davýd to bring her over. They’ll be here soon. Thank you.”
She gives me a small smile. Not the kind of warm, unguarded smile she gave me before she learned about who I really am. This one is more careful. Still, a smile is a smile, and I’ll take what I can get.
“I’m happy to help,” she murmurs, and I know she means it.
I watch her get up and start collecting things from around the house. She even asks if she can use my credit card to order a few toys for Anya. Of course, I’m happy to oblige. I’m thrilled to see her look alive again.
It’s the first time in days I feel my spine loosen even a fraction.
Half an hour later, Davýd walks in holding his daughter’s hand. Little Anya looks even smaller today, like she’s folded in on herself. She keeps her face tucked behind her father’s leg, and, per usual, doesn’t say anything.
I realize I probably should have prepared Molly for this. Anya hasn’t spoken since she saw her mother brutally murdered. Still, I’m confident that Molly will find a way to communicate with Anya. Her love for children is so evident.
When she sees the girl, she kneels down to eye level with her right away, which seems to soften the little one a fraction.
“Hi,” she says gently. “I’m Molly.”
Anya peeks out at her with cautious, uncertain eyes.
Molly doesn’t rush her. She just offers her hand, close but not touching, so the girl can choose for herself.
“We can sit together in the living room,” she says softly. “We don’t have to talk. We can just draw for a while. I just bought the prettiest set of crayons.”
Something in her voice pulls the girl forward. Not much. Just enough that she lets go of her father’s leg.
I glance at Davýd. His eyes are a little misty, and he looks like a gentle wind might blow him over. I didn’t realize how bad it’s been with Anya, that even this small act of trust would so thoroughly undo him.
“Thank you,” he tells Molly, voice tight.
She smiles at him. “Go. We’ll be fine.”
And I believe her.
Davýd doesn’t say anything when we leave, but his silence speaks volumes. His posture is more relaxed than it’s been in a long time. He doesn’t seem to be carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for once.
“I like her,” he finally says. “Molly, I mean.”
I just nod. I like her, too.
The meeting runs long. Everyone has an opinion on how to solve our Lebedev problem, but no one offers any viable solutions. By the end of the meeting, my patience is gone. I’ve held this organization together for years, and now all of a sudden the vultures think they can circle me. All of this and they don’t even know about the woman and unborn child under my roof. If they did, they’d attack even harder.
Let them come. I’ll remind them who I am when they get close enough.
By the time we’re done, I’m ready for a stiff drink. Davýd seems similarly exhausted. When we finally get back to the apartment, though, we both freeze.
Molly is sitting cross-legged on the rug with Anya leaning against her side. The girl is holding a stack of homemade cards, flipping one over. Molly claps softly.
“That’s it,” she says warmly. “You found the flower. Good job, sweetheart.”
Anya doesn’t speak, but she smiles up at Molly with a small, wobbly grin. Then she lets out a tiny laugh, quick and bright.
I am immediately bowled over by the sound. Beside me, Davýd lets out a strangled gasp. When I look at him, there are tears in his eyes.