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“Wow. I wouldn’t mind having a Ruth at my place, you know.”
“Mom wouldn’t let you have Ruth,” he said.
I sat with him as he stuffed his face. I probably looked much the same way to Jessen minutes before. “I don’t think Ruth would want to leave with such a champion eater like you to wolf down everything she made.”
He swallowed the last bite and gulped his milk, leaving a cute white moustache on his upper lip.
“Let’s play a game, Aunt Moira.”
“Okay. What would you like to play? I’m not very good at Morgon chess like your dad.”
“Pfft. Let’s play a fun game. Hide-n-seek! Mom’s always too tired to play.”
“I imagine she is.” I laughed. “All right.”
“Yay!”
The poor kid had definitely been cooped up too long already.
“But we have to be super quiet. Your mom is taking a nap.”
“Okay, okay. You hide first.” He raced back into the living room and jumped on the sofa. “This is base. If you get here before I find you, you win.”
His wings flapped excitedly as he buried his head under a pillow and started counting. “One, two, three…
I slipped off my boots and socks and tip-toed toward the bedroom quarters. Stepping into Julian’s room, I glanced up at his ceiling, reflecting the snow-gray sky outside, no sun to be found. His closet was a walk-in, pretty easy for me to find a corner and wait.
Not three minutes later of sitting in the dark, I heard the patter of his feet and a giggle outside the closet door. With his heightened sense of smell, I would lose every round of this game. Totally unfair.
He threw open the door. “Gotcha!”
I laughed and tickled him till he fell on the ground in a fit of giggles.
“Stop! I can’t breathe.”
I finally let him up. “That’s the price for finding me too fast. It’s not fair you can use your sense of smell. I can’t do that.”
“You want me to hold my breath?” he asked with a sincere expression. So sensitive, this little one.
“Of course not, silly,” I laughed. “Your turn. I’ll give you one minute.”
I went back to the sofa and waited out the time. I started in his father’s study, thinking he might venture outside the bedroom quarters to trick me. Not under the desk or behind the sofa in the study. My eyes lingered on the red-tufted carpet, remembering the last time I was in here, my cheeks flaming hot.
I peeked into the dining room, but there were few places to hide there. I tip-toed down the long corridor, housing the master suite, Julian’s bedroom, and four guest rooms. The first bedroom was empty. So was the adjoining bathroom.
Walking down the hall, I felt a wafting breeze from the master suite. Surely, he wouldn’t take the chance in waking his mother. Her door stood ajar.
“Julian,” I whispered, slipping into their bedroom.
A small fire crackled in the hearth. Jessen lay sleeping on the bed on her back, one arm hanging off. Funny. She always used to sleep on her side. I supposed pregnancy changed lots of things.
A chill prickled up my spine. Something felt wrong. I tip-toed to Jessen, pressing my hand to her brow. Her forehead felt clammy.
“Jessen.” I gently shook her. She made a soft moan.
The white, gossamer curtains hanging over the terrace archway billowed with a cold wind. The steel doors were open.
“Aunt Moira.” Julian’s faint voice echoed from the outer balcony.
