Page 133 of Emerald Malice

God, how I wish I could. “Do you think he killed him?”

Leonty shrugs, which, let me tell you, is not comforting at all. “Personally, I don’t think you should be wasting your time worrying about that asshole. He’s not in your life anymore. End of story. What you should be focused on is getting this room ready for the little princess.”

He tries to pat my stomach, but I swat him away. “Don’t patronize me.”

Chuckling, he makes for the door. “I was told to let you know that this room is yours to design. So let your imagination run wild.”

Then he disappears.

“Idiot,” I mutter, turning back to the windows.

I left Remi with Misha in the gardens earlier, but I don’t see any sign of them right now.

Almost as though I’ve conjured them out of thin air, I hear Remi’s bark. A few moments later, the dog skitters into the room with Misha just behind him. They both slip and slide on the polished hardwood floors, laughing hysterically.

Misha sobers and dips his head as soon as he sees me, his hands folded behind his back. “Leonty said you were up here.” He still walks into every room like he might be thrown out of it by the scruff. Another symptom of his rough childhood, I’m sure.

Though he’s been tight-lipped about the details so far. I spent hours trying to wheedle some information out of him. In the end, it was Mila that made me realize that I was beating a dead horse.

“He’s not ready to talk about his past yet. Instead of forcing the topic, just give him the space to trust you. One day, when he is ready to talk, he’ll know he can come to you.”

It was good advice. As soon as I stopped pushing him for information about himself, he relaxed around me. Sometimes, he even seeks me out.

“This is going to be the baby’s nursery. What do you think?”

Remi explores the room in large, frantic circles, sniffing every nook and cranny. Misha, on the other hand, takes his time. He looks around with those watchful eyes, turning on the spot as though he’s scared to take up space.

“What do you think?” he lobs back at me.

“I asked ya first.”

His smile is shy. “It’s… nice.”

“What if we painted the walls a nice bright yellow?” I wonder out loud. “Or maybe wallpaper on one side with a forest motif? And then do this wall in green?”

Misha looks utterly lost. “Um… yeah. Whatever you like.”

Remi butts his head against the back of Misha’s legs. He drops to his knees to pet the needy dog. I can’t help but smile at the two of them. It’s amazing how far they’ve come. Just goes to show what you can achieve with a little love.

I gesture for Misha to join me at the window seat. He sits on the far end of the cushion while Remi resumes his circling inspections.

“Will you help me paint?” I ask.

At that, the boy’s eyes snap to mine. “You want me to help?”

“Of course.”

His face flushes and he looks down quickly. “I… I don’t know how much longer I’ll be around, though.” His furrowed forehead suggests that he’s been worrying about this for some time now.

“Is there somewhere you need to be, Misha?” I ask. “A home you want to go back to? A family who might be waiting for you…?”

He refuses to look at me. “No one’s looking for me.”

My heart splinters. But then again, I already knew that. It’s been months and no one has come knocking.

“If there’s someone you want to find,” I say softly, “I could help you locate?—"

“No!”

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