Page 84

Story: Taken

And perhaps, even understanding too.
In that moment, there was a shift between us, an undeniable truth which settled in our bones.
Chiara was ours.
And she understood it too.
Even now, as Mikhail and I stand in front of her room, watching her, that memory lingers, still fresh in our minds.
She’s so absorbed in whatever book it is that she’s reading, that she hasn’t even realised we’re standing here.
We take a step closer, taking a step into her room, watching her stiffen as she finally hears us.
Her eyes immediately dart up from the book as she meets ours.
She freezes, releases a small breath between her lips, then a deep flush colours her skin.
It’s almost comical, the way she reacts after seeing us both, but I can’t deny it; there’s a warmth which spreads through me at the sight of her like that, and I would be lying if I said it doesn't make me feel good.
It’s only a simple, fleeting moment, but something about it—her innocence, her vulnerability—strikes me.
Chiara is no longer that terrified girl from the same night she was taken.
She’s adjusting, slowly but surely, even if she doesn’t fully understand everything that’s going on around her.
But she’s ours now. And that’s all that matters.
Mikhail doesn’t speak immediately. Instead, he looks at Chiara with a quiet intensity in his eyes, his gaze sharp, but not unkind.
I’m the one to break the silence between us.
“How is the book, darling?”
I ask, keeping my voice soft, almost curious even.
I’m not too sure why I’m feeling this way; it's a strange mix of emotions inside me—familiar, but also new all at the same time.
Her blush deepens as her eyes dart back down to the book in her hands, then immediately back to us.
“It’s good.” She says. “I’m enjoying it so far.”
I don’t know if she’s telling the truth, but that’s not important right now.
Reading is only a way for her to pass time.
Both Mikhail and I move further into the room, feeling the pull of her gaze as she shifts slightly in her bed. It’s natural though, I suppose. She’s not comfortable with exactlyeverything,and we can’t blame her for it.
But there’s something in the way that she looks at us both that tells me she’s starting to understand.
Before we can waste any more time, I open my mouth to speak.
But one look over at her trembling hands, and the way her teeth have sunk into her bottom lip, makes my chest tighten. Something inside of me, deep and primal, shifts, and I find myself taking a second to catch my breath.
“Chiara.” I say softly, noticing the way her eyes widen a fraction at the sound of her name falling from my lips. “We have to go. There are things that need to be handled. We will be back soon.”
She gasps, her hand immediately going to her mouth, as she shakes her head.
Fear.

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