Page 285 of Sorrow & Strangers

“Let me do some research first.”

He holds out his hands for me. I push away from the door and set the baby monitor down on the nightstand before placing my hands in his. He brings them to his lips and kisses my knuckles.

“I can practically hear your thoughts racing,” he says, watching me.

I exhale heavily. “I’m sorry. It’s been an overwhelming couple of days.”

He pulls me onto his lap, and I easily melt against him as I wrap my arms around his neck.

“I missed you,” he says, nuzzling into my neck, and I tilt my head for him, giving him more access. He kisses along my throat. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

I moan softly. “I always knew this day was coming with Al, but for it to happen now? When her life is just beginning? When she’s just managed to escape Drãculea.”

The stranger still kisses up my neck, distracting me.

“Something feels off.”

“Off? That is the second time you’ve said that,” the stranger says, pulling back to study me.

Alice whimpers over the monitor, and I grab it. “I have to go. I’ll text you?”

He kisses my jaw once more before helping me off his lap. As soon as I am steady on my feet, he’s gone. I hurry back to Alice’s room and climb into bed with her, holding her close as she sobs against me.

“I’m here.”

“But I’m supposed to be the one who’s here for you,” Alice says through her sobs.

“You have been here for me. You saved me. You’re my family,” I say, stroking her hair. “It’s my turn to be here for you now.”

Alice hugs me tight. “You’re my family too.”

I kiss her head. “You’re safe. You’re loved. You’re wanted.” Things that Alice and I had never felt before we found each other.

“Thank you for saving me last year,” Alice whimpers.

“Last year?”

Alice nods into my neck. “When I came here, I didn’t think I was worth anything, but you never made me feel like that. You made me feel special.”

“We saved each other,” I admit. She and Connor did more for me than they would ever realize.

“Thank you, Sum. For thinking I was worthy.”

“You’re worth everything,” I say, nuzzling into her.

Alice sobs again. “Why do we keep losing things?” I know she isn’t simply speaking about her father. She’s grieving her loss of independence at this moment.

“I don’t know, Al.”

“It’s not fair.” Alice hiccups on a sob. “It’s not fair. Things were starting to get better.”

I stroke her hair. “And they will again.” I notice how pale she is, and I frown. “Did you eat yesterday?”

Alice pulls back, looking up at me, and I notice the bags beneath her eyes. They’re not only due to a lack of sleep.

“I’ll be back in a second,” I say, climbing out of bed and going downstairs to get a blood bag for her. My phone pings when I reach the kitchen.

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