Page 7 of Manacled Hearts

“Are those for me?” she asks.

“Maya,” Katya warns.

“Yes, sugar.” She gives me a way out, and I’m gladly taking it, leaning in and handing her the bouquet.

“Lilacs!” she exclaims, looking back at me in awe. “My favorites! How did you know?”

I realize that I’m fidgeting with my fingers, and I shove my hands in my pockets to stop myself. I’m not used to interacting with such small humans, even if I do have a nephew roughly her age. Granted, I’ve never met him. But Maya’s smile is infectious, and one pulls at my lips too.

“Lucky guess,” I answer.

“Thank you!” She jumps in excitement and disappears inside.

Katya shakes her head, gesturing me in, her expression as composed as ever. I don’t miss the amusement in her dark eyes, though.

“How is she?” I ask.

“Not as well as she tries to make it up to be.” She knows I’m not referring to the tiny human.

We walk into her kitchen, and I prop my elbows on the central island, looking into the open-plan living area. Katya fills a vase with water and takes it over to the coffee table. Maya carefully places each flower stem in, looking at the scented greenery like they’re the greatest gift.

“Were those for Evelyn?” Katya asks when she returns next to me, watching me intently.

“No.”

The answer comes too quick and one of her perfectly plucked eyebrows quirks. But she doesn’t press. She knows better than to do it.

“Where is she?” I ask.

“In the bedroom.”

“She trusts you with her sister?” I ask.

“No. She doesn’t trust anyone. Though I think she acknowledges I’m not a threat. But whatever they did to her in there is still coming out of her system. She drifts in and out, no matter how much she fights it.” Katya sighs, crossing her arms against her chest, and looks over to the little girl. “And she really is a fighter, Finnigan.”

I have limited information about the girl beyond her name—Evelyn Shaw—but based on what I’ve witnessed, I am convinced that she is a fighter. She didn’t hesitate to throw herself in the deep end in order to save all the children. One hundred and twenty-three souls are alive because of her sacrifice.

“Can I see her?” I ask before I can stop myself.

“Why?” Katya narrows her eyes on me.

Why, indeed. What am I looking to achieve?

“If she’s up for it, I have some questions.”

“She’s already been asked questions by the others, Finnigan.”

“We have more.”

No, we don’t.

She sighs and points to the corridor leading to the bedrooms. Only, we’re both taken by surprise when we turn that way. Me more than Katya.

Evelyn stands at the entrance to that hall, holding her sister against her front, arms slid protectively over her chest. Her fierce gaze lingers on me. She’s watching me closely, not like prey, but equally ready to flee at the first sight of danger.

She hasn’t blinked yet.

Neither have I.

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