Page 74 of A Murder of Crows

I take a deep breath, and then another.

Chapter thirty-seven Luciano

Ipause in the doorway, not expecting her to be there.

Her chest rises and falls in soft huffs, her eyes closed. She doesn’t stir when I nudge the door closed, as my feet cross the room. Not wanting to scare her, I take a seat down by her feet, the bed dipping under my weight.

And I watch her. Just for a moment. Just to soak in the sight of her like this, vulnerable and soft, a Caterina I haven’t seen for a long time. She’s always so full of life that seeing her in this way feels like an intimacy I haven’t earned.

I don’t want to wake her, but I have a feeling she won’t appreciate my presence. So I stand up, meaning to leave her in peace, but a quiet voice stills me.

“Luc?”

I glance down, taking in her wide brown eyes, the loose braid with hints of bronze curls springing free. “I didn’t realize you were here. Stay as long as you need to. I’m heading out now.”

But she’s shaking her head, sitting up and swinging her legs out. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep – I have to go. What time is it?”

I check my watch. “Just after twelve.”

The witching hour. She slows, blowing out a breath of relief. “Oh. Good. That’s… good.”

I notice her fingers trembling. She follows my gaze, curls them inward. “I’ll be out of your way now.”

“No rush.” Instead, I sit down next to her. “Want to talk about it?”

I’m not expecting an answer at all. Maybe a sarcastic comment, some sort of brush off. But she doesn’t give me either of those things.

“What do you see when you look in the mirror, Luc?”

Her question takes me by surprise. When I look down, she’s staring at the wall across from us. So I bite back the flippant response, taking a minute or two to think it through.

“I see… many things. Some are things that I like, and there are some that I don’t. But I face them all the same. Who are we after all, if not the consequences of our own decisions?”

She nods beside me, slowly. “I wonder if that will happen to us all, in the end. If over time, that balance tips. Until in the end we stop looking in the mirror at all, because there is so much about ourselves that we can’t bear to see.”

“I draw the lines that I will not cross,” I say quietly. “I hope that means that in the years to come, I will still see someone to be proud of. That my children will be proud of.”

She stiffens. “What if you needed to cross that line?”

I loosen my breath. “Then I would ask myself whether the reward was worth the sacrifice. I’m not so idealistic as to believe that time will never come. Not in our world. There will always be a line to cross, little crow. And we will always need to make a choice about whether or not to cross it. That is a burden we all have to bear.”

I watch her from the corner of my eye as she contemplates my response. And I wonder what her lines are, and what it would cost her to cross them.

But before I can ask, she stands up. “Thank you. This place is… I like it.”

“Good.” I half-smile. “Come back anytime.”

She only nods, her gaze distant.

And then she’s gone, as if she was never here at all.

Chapter thirty-eight Caterina

I know what I have to do.

I know what my line is, and what it will take for me to cross it.

What the cost will be.