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“I have been rude.”

I say nothing.

She looks toward the window, where the last of the afternoon light lies pale across the floor. “I am protective of this family,” she says. “Sometimes too protective. You came suddenly. Anya attached herself to you suddenly. I misjudged you.” The words land softly, but something about them makes me feel strange.

Maybe because I expected sharpness from her. Not this.

“I understand,” I say.

She looks back at me. “Do you?”

“I don’t know this family,” I say honestly. “Not really. But I know Anya is precious to everyone here. I would probably be suspicious of me too.”

Galina’s expression shifts.

For a moment, I think she might say something more. Instead, she picks up the dry pajamas and sets them closer to me. “Can you manage changing?”

I glance down at myself.

The blanket is tucked under my arms, and beneath it my camisole is still damp, cold against my skin.

“Yes,” I say quickly, because I have already been undressed once today by a Volkov and I don’t trust the universe not to make it a pattern.

Galina nods. “I will wait outside. Call if you need help.”

“Thank you.”

She starts for the door, then pauses. “Anya wanted to come,” she says. “Mr. Volkov told her you need quiet tonight.”

My chest tightens. “Oh.”

“She was upset.”

“I didn’t want to scare her.”

“You didn’t scare her,” Galina says. “The thought of losing you scared her.”

I look down at the blanket. That’s much harder to joke about.

Galina leaves.

I change slowly, wincing my way out of the damp camisole and into the soft pajamas. By the time I crawl under the blankets, my body feels wrung out, sore, and heavy.

I eat the soup. It’s literal perfection, as with the rest of the house. I’m starting to suspect Nikolai prefers everything in his life that way. And then I crash landed right into that.

Then I lie back and wait for sleep. It doesn’t come.

All day, my body has been desperate for rest, but the moment the room goes dark, my mind decides to become a cinema of bad decisions.

I see water. Blue and bright. I feel myself falling. I remember the instant panic of having nothing beneath my feet.

Then Nikolai’s arm around my waist. His voice.

I have you.

My eyes open. The room is quiet.

A lamp glows softly near the armchair. The curtains are drawn. Somewhere beyond the walls, the house moves with low, expensive silence.