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“Mia got braces and Sophie brought pictures of her hamster and Miss Hannah says my turns got better and Miss Elena knows karate.”
“I know karate too,” Maggie says, opening Ivy's door.
Ivy blinks up at her. “Do they teach karate at animal shelters?”
Maggie presses a hand to her chest. “Well, now my feelings are hurt.”
Ivy tilts her head. “You seem more like a dog biscuit expert.”
Maggie laughs as I help Ivy into her seat. “That might be true.”
“I know,” Ivy says matter-of-factly.
I hide my own amusement as I help Ivy into her seat and fasten her harness.
Satisfied with her assessment of Maggie's skills, Ivy nods once. Then she reaches into her dance bag and removes a brightly colored flyer.
“Oh!” She thrusts it toward Maggie. “I almost forgot.”
Maggie reads it. “Dance recital rehearsal,” she says.
“In three days,” Ivy says excitedly. “Miss Hannah says everybody has to come because we're practicing on the real stage.”
“I’ll be there,” Maggie promises.
Ivy turns toward me. “You too, Papa.”
“I will attend.”
Ivy smiles brightly.
As Luka drives us home beneath the fading afternoon sun, Ivy continues talking while Maggie listens patiently beside me. I rest a hand on Maggie's thigh and let myself listen.
They’re safe.
That’s all that matters.
15
MAGGIE
The first thing I notice when I open my eyes is the darkness surrounding the room and the bright blue glow of the clock on the nightstand. Three seventeen in the morning.
I stare up at the ceiling of Alexei's bedroom, listening to the faint whir of the air conditioner and the palmetto branches brushing against each other outside the windows. The mansion is quiet. Most everybody in the house is asleep, but sleep and I haven't exactly been getting along lately. Every time exhaustion finally drags me under, I wake up a couple of hours later with my mind running in circles all over again.
Tonight, my mind returns straight to the shelter. I can still see the flames if I close my eyes. Orange and gold consuming walls I painted myself, smoke pouring into the sky while volunteers and firefighters rushed around trying to save whatever they could.
Somebody did that. Somebody deliberately set that fire.
The truth hits me all over again. The shelter was never just a building. It was years of scraped-together donations, late nights, impossible choices, and animals nobody else wanted. It was my purpose. Knowing somebody looked at that place and decided to destroy it still makes me feel sick.
I release a slow breath and roll onto my side.
Alexei lies beside me, asleep on his back, one powerful arm stretched across the mattress toward me. Even resting, he reaches for me. Moonlight brushes across his face, softening the harsher angles that usually make him appear untouchable. Without the expensive clothes, the endless phone calls, and the burden he carries every waking minute, he looks different lying there beside me. He looks younger, less guarded, achingly human.
Most people see Alexei Agapov and notice the billionaire first. They see the expensive watches, the ice-blue eyes, and the intimidating man who always seems completely in command. I see the father who sat beside Ivy's bed all night because she was afraid to sleep alone. I see the man who brought in construction crews without saying a word because he knew how much the shelter meant to me. I see the man who hasn't really slept since somebody tried to take his little girl.
My throat tightens. I don't know when he last slept through an entire night.
