“He buys the wrong groceries when he shops alone. He folds towels terribly. He pretends he dislikes puns but secretly waits for them. He makes coffee too strong. He checks on the children multiple times after they’ve fallen asleep even when he needs to sleep himself.”
Bogdan watched me with growing amusement. “You are gone for him.”
I avoided his eyes.
“How fascinating.” The compulsion twisted again. “Do not hide from me, poppet.”
I wanted to claw my own thoughts apart before he could touch them. Instead, I continued helplessly. “He listens when the children speak.”
Something unexpectedly painful took hold of my heart. “He remembers things they say. Tiny things. Billie wanted bright pink rain boots three weeks ago, and he bought them without being reminded. Bianca mentioned liking a particular historian, and he ordered her books. CJ told one bad joke about penguins, and Conrad spent two days learning penguin facts to tell him at dinner.”
Bogdan stared at me for a long moment. Then he laughed softly. “Oh, this is far more serious than I realized.”
I hated how vulnerable I suddenly felt. Predators always understood attachment. That was how they weaponized it.
He tapped one long finger thoughtfully against the planner. “And the children?”
I grimaced, every inch of my body freezing up in an attempt to fight the urge to share about the children.
The compulsion pulsed again.
“CJ is a wonderful storyteller,” I said, my voice cracking. “He lies beautifully because he wants the world to become softer than it is. Bianca hides behind facts because emotions overwhelm her. Billie…” My throat thickened unexpectedly. “Billie remembers grief without remembering her mother properly and it confuses her.”
“You care for them deeply,” he said.
“Yes.”
“Enough to die for them?”
“Yes.”
The word hung heavily between us. I had said it with no hesitation. Bogdan became very still. Rain battered harder against the windows now, branches scraping against the roof. The silence grew and stretched until it became impossible to handle.
Then Bogdan smiled, and every instinct in my body screamed.
“You know,” he murmured, “I always suspected domesticity would be your undoing.”
I glared at him. “You mistake kindness for weakness.”
“No.” His eyes settled meaningfully on the planner again. “I recognize attachment as leverage.”
Fear hit me so hard my undead heart spasmed painfully. All I could think of was Conrad and the children.
Bogdan continued flipping through pages casually while my entire body locked into rising panic.
“What school do the children attend?”
I answered.
“What routes do they take home?”
I answered.
“Security systems?”
I tried not to answer. The compulsion punished me instantly.
Bogdan sighed with exaggerated disappointment. “Winifred.”
