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Chapter 15
Iwake up in Mischa’s bed alone. A new tray waits on the table in the corner, containing breakfast, judging from the smell.
Someone also left a pile of clean clothing at the foot of the bed. A smile tugs at my mouth as I inspect my options: a pair of jeans and a simple shirt.
But it’s the color that draws my notice: a hated shade of pink. Maybe Mischa’s opinion toward the hue has softened after all.
Once I’m dressed, I pick over the food—porridge, eggs, and toast—and then I slip into the hall, fully intending to take Sergei up on his offer.
But where Mischa mockingly goaded me to explore his own manor once, I suspect that Sergei has a different motive in mind, rather than to toy with me.
Now that I know it’s where my mother slept, the emerald room takes on a different atmosphere. Admittedly, the plainness holds none of the intrigue Mischa’s mother’s red room did, and after twenty-four years, there shouldn’t be much left to find.
Still, I swallow hard and push the door open, stepping inside as if for the first time.
Closing my eyes, I try to picture her here. Was the door locked behind her? Did she lie on that bed and pine for Briar?
It’s no use. The Marnie I knew can only be conjured in the opulent finery of Winthorp Manor, draped in pearls and expensive clothing. I can’t think of her as a captive or otherwise.
Maybe Sergei was lying?
But Anna wasn’t. My mother saved her life. Would she go so far for a man she hated?
Thinking of it all makes my head throb, and I reenter the hall, closing the door behind me. I don’t go far before commotion draws my attention to a nearby window.
Screaming?
My heart skips as I press my fingers against the glass. Is it another attack?
Thankfully, the reality seems far less nefarious.
A small boy runs across an emerald lawn, shrieking at the top of his lungs. Eli—and it doesn’t take long before I spot the source of his peril: a monstrous pursuer giving ruthless chase. Blond hair differentiates them both from the dark green of the lawn. From this distance, they resemble two versions of the same figure: one young, the other battered with age.
Suddenly, the larger of the two lunges, snatching the boy from behind, and they both collapse into a heap on the grass.
Not far from them stands Anna wearing a faint smile of her own. To any casual onlooker, they would appear to be the perfect family enjoying a lazy morning. It’s almost scary how well Mischa could fit into that mold when he wants to: caring protector. A father…
Watching them together should soothe the ache in my chest, but the discomfort only grows as I turn away.
Alone, I descend the stairs and eventually find my own way out to the garden through a back hallway.
At the center of a small, paved courtyard, Eli is now sitting near a plot of rose bushes, decapitating them while Mouse crouches in the dirt a few yards away.
“Hello,” I croak as they turn to me in unison.
“Hello!” Beaming, Eli wrenches a handful of roses from the bush. He waves them absently, spraying blood-red petals over his once-white clothes. “Are you back from heaven for good?”
“W-what?” A startled laugh escapes my throat, surprising me. “I don’t—”
“Eli!” Anna calls to him from paces away. “Come here, please.”
He looks at me, his nose wrinkling, before he dutifully races toward his mother, leaving me with Mouse.
For once, the girl acknowledges my presence with more than resolute silence. I think I see her mouth twitch slightly. A smile?
She’s holding a stick, digging persistently into the earth at the base of the bushes. The closer I come, her markings resemble something more deliberate. Letters?
D O N A T E L L O V A N
