Page 44 of Fight

I paused for a single moment and then plastered a smile on my face as I entered the kitchen. “You’re back from—”

I went silent at the sight that greeted me.

This was Ioan’s kitchen, but the elderly woman standing in front of the stove was definitely not Ioan.

I wasn’t sure what to do, so I began to walk backward and she continued whatever she was doing, moving this way and that in the kitchen.

“Don’t run away, draga,” she said when I edged toward the hall. “At least not before you hand me that pot.”

She nodded toward the pot that sat on the kitchen table.

I paused for a single moment and then moved forward, grabbing the pot. After I handed it to her, I stood there, not certain of what else to do.

“Thank you,” she said.

Then, she looked at me, dark eyes eerily reminiscent of Ioan’s. I started to smile despite myself, figuring out who this was.

“Your Ioan’s grandmother,” I said.

She smiled, nodding. “And who are you, draga?” she asked as she watched me.

“Oh! I’m P. Patricia. I’m Ioan’s…” I trailed off, not sure what to call myself, but she smiled knowingly and then nodded.

“Why don’t you help me make breakfast, Patricia?”

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