I mean, I was still technically protected by an FBI agent, even though he wouldn’t be the one responsible for my protection for long.Technically, he was only allowed a relatively small part in the investigation, now that it was tied to his sister and he had told his superior that he was dating me.Still, I felt safer with him than I ever had before.I felt a lot of things when it came to Nick.
The door opened before we got there, and a woman with a soft face and wild brown curls stepped onto the mat.She was about a foot shorter than Nick, wearing a navy cardigan hanging from her shoulders.
She grabbed Nick in a hug before he could say a word, pinning his arms to his sides.There was no conversation, just the tightness of her hold and the way she inhaled his scent.She didn’t even look at me.For a second, I wondered if I should turn around and give them privacy, but Nick’s dad was already looming in the hallway, arms folded over a Steelers sweatshirt.
“Hi, Ma,” Nick managed, muffled against her shoulder.
She stepped back, eyes glistening, and swiped a thumb across his cheek.“You look skinny.”
“FBI doesn’t pay well enough to afford the kinds of rations I need,” Nick deadpanned, and his mother’s lips twitched at the corners.
Only then did her eyes land on me.She looked me up and down—not with the icy calculation of an American matriarch, but with the frank, slightly melancholy curiosity of a woman who’d never expected her son to bring anyone home, let alone someone like me.
“This is Nadya,” Nick said.“She’s my—” and then he hesitated.Girlfriend?Witness?The word failed to appear, so he settled for, “—she’s with me.Nadya, these are my parents: Sandra and Charlie.”
I gave a tiny wave.“Hi.”
His mom stepped aside to let me in, her eyes softening.“Come in, dear.”
The inside of the house was small but arranged with surgical precision.Every surface had a use, every object a story behind it.The air smelled like carpet cleaner, black coffee, and something sweet—probably whatever she’d baked in anticipation of her son’s visit.There were no expensive appliances or decorator pieces, but everything looked worn-in and stubbornly clean.
Nick’s hand brushed the small of my back again, guiding me into the living room.It was packed with family photos: graduations, birthday cakes, football games, a million staged smiles on the same blue plaid couch.My eyes went straight to the photo above the mantel—a little girl with toothy grin and the same eyes as Nick, frozen in time next to a pink birthday cake.The caption, scrawled in blue sharpie, read “ISABELLA, age 6.”
I looked away fast, pretending to study the carpet pattern.
Nick’s mom clapped her hands.“Sit, sit!Do you want tea, Nadya?Coffee?I just made banana bread.”
“Tea, please,” I answered.
As soon as Sandy left for the kitchen, Nick’s dad spoke up.“You look good, son.”
Nick shrugged.“Work keeps me in shape.”
Charlie glanced at me, then back at Nick.“Your ma almost gave up hope that you’d ever bring a girl home.”
Nick smiled softly at me, then his expression sobbered.“And you probably won’t see me or Nadya for a while longer.Nadya is going into protective custody while I catch the bad guys.Then...”His eyes were like a gentle caress on me.“Hopefully you’ll see a lot more of Nadya after that.”
Sandra reappeared and poured a cup for me, then Nick, her husband, and finally one for herself, then joined us around the large hardwood chest that served as a coffee table.
“Thank you,” I said, wrapping my hands around the mug.The heat seeped into my palms, grounding me.
“So,” Sandy said, her voice so gentle it almost didn’t belong in a room with two men built like linebackers.“Are you and Nick coworkers?”
I shook my head.“No.He’s...helping me with something.It’s a long story.”
She smiled, the lines around her eyes deepening.“Well, I hope he helps you so much you’ll want to keep him around.”
Nick cleared his throat.He glanced at me, then at his parents.“We found Isabella.”
For a second, no one moved.Even the wind chimes outside stopped, as if the world was holding its breath.
Sandy’s hands jerked, sloshing tea onto the saucer.Charlie stared straight ahead, jaw set so hard I thought it might crack.
Nick went on, his voice even, almost clinical.“They found her in the yard of a man who broke into Nadya’s apartment.She’d been there a long time, along with the bodies of ten more kids.”
Sandra set the tea down, her hands now shaking openly.She stared at the plate of banana bread like it might offer a solution.
“Is he in jail?”Charlie asked, voice like gravel.
