Page 92 of Arseni

“I’ve got you,” Luka says, patting his back.“Always.”

EPILOGUE

MARGOT

The smell of brownies fills my kitchen.

When I open the oven, I inhale a deep breath and grab the oven mitt to pull them out.

It isn’t a special recipe—in fact, it’s from a box—but when I was trying to rack my brain for the perfect welcoming treat, I had an image of my old foster son hoovering these with his friends he invited over without asking.It’s a reminder to myself of everything that could go wrong, and for some reason, that brings me peace.Calm.Stability.Everything a new parent needs.

My head turns when I hear a crash, and I hurry to the spare bedroom to find Arseni throwing toys into a trash bag.

I sigh.“Babe…”

“It’s too much.”He shakes his head without looking at me and busies himself packing away video games.There’s at least fifty on the shelf.“I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking.”

I look around the stuffed room and can’t help but agree.Arseni has spent a small fortune on this room.We’ve painted it three times.Added shelving just to tear it down when Arseni realized with horror that the kid probably wouldn’t have anything to put on it.Then he put everything back up and filled it himself.

Every trip to the store, he comes back with some new flashy toy or video game console.Every night I go to sleep, he’s next to me on his phone, researching the burning question of the day.He’s an absolute nervous wreck.

And, my God, I love it.

“Honey… You need to put the trash bag down.”

“It looks like I’m trying to fuckingbuythe kid.I mean Jesus Christ, why would you let me do this?”Dropping the trash bag, he waves a hand around the room.He looks crazed with his hair disheveled like he’s been pulling it.I know for a fact he hasn’t slept in a week.

“It looks like youcare.Because you do.And that’s all that matters.”I walk up to him and place my hands on his chest when he still won’t look at me.Finally, his tortured eyes meet mine.

“I love you.You’re a good man.And you’re going to be agreatfather.”

He sighs.I don’t think that gave him the briefest comfort.“Would we still be doing this if we’d known you were pregnant?”

“Yes.”

“He’s not going to think that.”

“He will.”I force a smile.“It just takes time.”

My words sound so confident, but in my head, I’m stuffing that trash bag full of shit and running around in a panic.Arseni being panicked helps.It lets me know I’m not alone.

This feels so much like the first time, yet so, so different.

The boy’s name is Santiago.He’s eleven years old and has spent the last four years of his life living in abandoned houses with his mother and her various boyfriends.No one has been able to locate her for three months.The state took custody of him a week ago when an anonymous caller tipped them off.

“What if he knows?”Arseni asks.The shame in his voice tells me exactly what he’s thinking.

What if the boy knows it was Arseni who called?

“Hewon’t.”

“But—”

The doorbell ringing cuts him off.His eyes widen with panic and don’t land on me until I cup his face and force his head straight.

“Baby… You’re the only person he trusts to help him.You’ve been building this relationship for months.He needsyou.So please, breathe.It’s all going to be okay.”

He takes a deep breath and nods.

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