Page 43 of The Killer Who Kept Me

“Good morning.” Dafni smiled as I entered.

“Morning.”

The little girl, Maeve, sat beside her eating, and there was a baby rocking gently in a swing close by. Saros’s aunt and uncle were also eating and greeted me.

Penelope motioned to a chair. “Have a seat; Martha will bring out breakfast for you.”

“Oh, okay, thanks.”

Saros wasn’t here nor were any of his guys. I didn’t want to ask—it was none of my business. So once Martha brought out my food, I ate, joined in the light chatter, answering simple questions when asked.

After breakfast, I excused myself and saw Paulo as I left the dining room.

“Em, how are you feeling?”

“A lot better. Um, do you think Saros would mind if I hung out in the conservatory for a bit? I love that room.”

Paulo smiled. “I’m sure it’s fine. I’ll let him know you’re there; I’m on my way to see him now.”

“Thank you.”

It was raining today, thunder rumbled from far away, and little flashes of peekaboo lightning appeared every so often. I went straight to the couch I’d sat on the other day and watched the storm through the panoramic view.

The thunder got louder and the lightning brighter, and once the rain really started pouring, a laugh escaped me.

“It’s the best show on earth.” Saros’s voice startled me more than the thunder. “Sorry to frighten you.” He walked over to the couch but didn’t sit; he opted for the comfy chair beside it.

“It’s stunning in here.”

“When the sun shines, it’s pretty, but I love it more during storms. Snow is the best. Like swirling flakey tornados dancing along the glass.”

It was poetic how he phrased it, and I very much wanted to see it for myself. I was about to say that, but I noticed the expression on his face. Sadness, grief. I was well-versed in those emotions. Then I took in the dark smudges under his eyes.

“Saros, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Long night is all.”

We sat in comfortable silence, listening to the raging storm outside. I was content, but every so often I’d glance at Saros and his face would be pinched, as if he were struggling with something.

“Whatever’s on your mind, you can talk to me if it’ll help.”

He smiled at me, but it never touched his eyes. “I got some bad news about someone I care about, and I’m trying to figure out how to tell them.”

Oh, I didn’t envy that. “That’s hard. I mean, do they need to know?”

He sighed. “Need as in, will it save them? No. But it’s information they’d likely want. I just know it’s going to hurt them.”

He really was a huge teddy bear…with homicidal tendencies, of course.

“I’ve never had to give anyone bad news before. But I suppose if I had to, I’d start out by saying to them that I had something difficult to tell them, that it will upset them, but that you’re not going anywhere and that whatever they’re feeling after hearing it, you’d share that with them.”

He cocked his head, his blue eyes as stormy as the skies. He rose from the chair and moved over to the couch, kneeled in front of me, and tenderly placed his hand on my knee.

“Em.”

“Yeah?”

“I have something difficult to tell you.”

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