Page 119 of Ruby Mercy

The Ilya.

The ocean killed my brother, but he loved the water so much. When it came time to name my yacht, nothing else would do.

“Did your mom tell you about Ilya?”

She sways and fidgets, having no clue that a grown man is hanging on her every word. “She said she used to know him. And he’s like me.”

“Like you how?”

“He didn’t like to talk, either. But he got better.”

“She said that?” I ask.

Yuliana nods. “She said he’s all better now, wherever he is. And I’ll be all better, too.”

I’m sure some finer points have been lost in this game of telephone from Rayne to Yuliana to me, but the heart of the matter is there.

Rayne didn’t forget Ilya.

Even though she didn’t tell Yuliana about her father, she told her about her uncle. In some ways, that means even more.

“We should get some ice cream,” I say suddenly. I look down at Yuliana, all business. “Would you like to get ice cream?”

The dubious expression wipes off of her face and is replaced by sheer, unadulterated joy. “Can we?”

“Of course we can. I asked you, didn’t I? We can go get ice cream.”

Her smile wobbles on the corners. “Did Mama say it was okay?”

I kneel down to get on Yuliana’s level. “It’s good to listen to your mama. She makes the rules and keeps you safe.”

Yuliana nods obediently.

“But,” I add, “right now, Mama is asleep. That leaves me in charge, and we need to get out of the hotel room so we don’t wake her up. Do you know what that means?”

She grins. “Ice cream!”

I stand up and grab her shoes off the floor. I hold them with two fingers on one hand and offer the other hand out for her to take. “Exactly. That means ice cream.”

Yuliana waits until we’re in the elevator to try putting her shoes on. She sits in the center of the square box with her tongue stuck between her teeth as she struggles with the Velcro straps. By the time the elevator opens in the lobby level, she’s bouncing from one foot to the other, giggling as the flashing lights dance in the reflective elevator walls.

“Oh my gosh!” a woman standing outside the elevators exclaims. She has long blonde hair and a doggy carrier on her arm. The smallest Yorkie I’ve ever seen is asleep inside. “Look at those fabulous shoes.”

Yuliana’s excitement dims under the stranger’s attention. She sidles closer to me without touching me. I know she wishes Rayne was here so she could bury her face against her mom’s leg.

One day, she’ll feel that comfortable with me. All in good time.

The woman looks at me, still smiling. “My niece and nephew love their light-up shoes, too. They’re about the same age, I think.”

I have no idea why she’s telling me this. Normally, people don’t feel comfortable approaching me. German says I have an “unpleasant demeanor,” but I think it’s more that people’s instincts are sharp enough to know when they’re in the presence of a predator.

Apparently, Yuliana softens me up.

I nod and usher Yuliana through the elevator doors and into the lobby. The woman lunges forward to throw her arm in front of the doors to hold them open, conveniently brushing against my arm in the process.

“I’m here visiting them, actually,” she continues. “I’m only in town for a few days, and I have no idea what fun things to do with them. Do you have any suggestions?”

“I’m not from around here, either. Hence the hotel room.”

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