He arched his brow. “I’m intrigued.”
I smiled coldly. “I need you to go to Boston and collect Violet’s father.”
THIRTY-FIVE
VIOLET
Ieased the bedroom door open just enough to poke my head in, careful not to wake the children. Both were already in bed, dressed in clean pajamas. Dimitros lay propped against the pillows, his oxygen mask softly hissing, while Aria was curled beside him. Her mask sat snug against her face, one small hand twisted in the blanket.
“Shhh, she’s asleep,” Dimitros whispered, draping a protective arm over her shoulders.
I lingered at the door, uncertain I’d be welcome, but Dimitros evaporated those worries.
“Want to come in?”
Leaving the door slightly cracked, I padded across the room and stood at the foot of the mahogany bed.
“I just wanted to check on you two.”
“She pretty much fell asleep the moment we came back to the room.”
I smiled, glad they weren’t showing any immediate signs of trauma from tonight’s events. It was hard to gauge how all this would affect them in the long term this soon, although childrenwere more resilient than adults, and for that I was happy, although the grim expression on Dimitros’s face worried me.
“And you?” I asked.
“I’m fine,” he answered robotically. “I just can’t sleep.”
There was a hollowness to his voice, the kind that didn’t suit a sixteen-year-old boy.
I moved around to his side of the bed, giving him space to stop me if he wanted to. “Can I sit?”
He hesitated for a fraction of a second, then nodded.
The mattress dipped under my weight as I sat on the edge. Up close, the exhaustion on his face was clear. There were shadows under his eyes and tension in his jaw.
“Aria is lucky,” I said quietly, folding my hands in my lap. “To have you as a brother.”
He let out a small breath through his nose. “She’s my sister. My family.” He shifted, turning just enough to look at me, his gaze searching for something on my face.
I waited, unsure of what he might say next but not wanting to interrupt.
“You’re her mom, aren’t you?” he asked, the question landing hard. It shouldn’t have surprised me, considering Dimitros had proved himself to be a very perceptive kid in the short time I’d known him.
My shoulders tensed and my mind scrambled. What was I supposed to say? I didn’t know if this was a line I should cross without Lykos present, but I decided to listen to my gut.
I wanted to sayyesso badly. God, I wanted to shout it from the rooftops.
But I knew this wasn’t the right moment, and I drew in a breath, prepared to deny it, but nothing came out. I just couldn’t.
“That’s okay,” he said softly. “You don’t have to say anything.” His gaze didn’t leave mine. “I know you’re her mom.” A faint, almost crooked smile tugged at his mouth. “I can see it.The resemblance is clear as day.” He paused, then added a little more bluntly, “And then there’s the weird-as-fuck middle name she shares with your sister.”
I smiled and felt something in my chest shake loose.
“It is a bit weird,” I agreed.
I wasn’t worried about Dimitros saying anything to Aria. If he was going to, he would have already. He was clearly waiting for his father and me to do so.
“I’m sorry about your mother,” I murmured.
