Page 187 of Kingmakers, Graduation

“They’re so beautiful …” I breathe.

“They belonged to Dom and Ivan’s great-grandmother. Ivan gave them to me a long time ago. I thought you should have them now.”

Sloane and I have grown closer over the last two years. She’s visited us several times in Moscow. When Adrik and I go to Cannon Beach, we play Halo on teams—me and Sloane against Adrik and Zima.

Still, this is far beyond anything I would have expected.

I don’t quite have the nerve to hug her. All I can say is, “Thank you. I’ll treasure them.”

Sloane looks at me in the way she has, as if she can see right inside me.

“You impress me,” she says.

I let out a nervous laugh. “Never thought I’d hear you say that.”

Sloane smiles too. “You figured your shit out faster than I did. I was in my thirties when I met Ivan. You’re so young, you have your whole life ahead of you. Just remember, you need Adrik—and he needs you. Whenever I feel the impulse to be alone, I remind myself to draw back to Ivan. I’m always happier when we’re in sync. Stay connected—you’re both stronger together.”

“I’ll try,” I say. “I’ll really try.”

She presses my hand before letting go.

“Thank you, Sloane,” I say, again.

Her smile has a little more mischief in it now. “When you get back from your honeymoon, we should play Halo head-to-head. I just hit Diamond rank.”

“Oh my god,” I laugh. “I’m scared … but excited.”

“That’s my favorite feeling.”

“Me too.”

She leaves me to finish getting ready. I did my own hair and makeup—I wanted to look like myself. My hair is loose in big curls down my back. I take off the earrings I was going to wear and put on the ones Sloane gave me instead. They’re perfect for my dress, but I would have worn them either way.

My mom returns a few minutes later, the gown laid carefully over her arm.

“I fixed it,” she says.

She’s smiling with all the same joy I feel when I get something to work.

She’s not wearing makeup at all, her hair center-parted and pulled back in a low bun at the base of her neck. Her dress is cotton, a pale lilac color. She looks like someone Frida Kahlo would have painted, or dated. Her smile fills me with warmth.

“Thanks, Mom.”

She sits down where Sloane was just a minute before, her knees pressing against mine.

“Congratulations, baby. There’s never been a more beautiful bride.”

I twist the skirt of my crinoline in my hands.

“Thanks, Mom. I know this isn’t really what you wanted for me …”

My mom has never loved the criminal life. She fell in love with my father and she accepts him for all that he is, but this isn’t the future she would have picked for me.

She looks in my eyes, tucking an errant curl behind my ear.

“Oh baby, you’re so wrong … this is everything I ever dreamed for you.”

Her dark eyes are fixed on mine, clear and honest, yet I can’t quite believe her.

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