Page 21 of Her Darkest Possession

Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh-whoosh.

I blink, and feel my own world turn blurry when I do so. A few more blinks clear it, and I can taste the salt of my own tears on my lips.

Indigo turns and faces me, the smile on her face widening. "That's our baby, Anatoly. They're alive."

"Yes." I breathe. "They are."

Our baby's heartbeat continues to fill the room, steady and insistent, like it's announcing its presence to the world. To us.

At my insistence,Indigo's been finally moved to a private room with better security and she's sleeping peacefully. Both Dr. Espina and Dr. Martinez wanted to keep her overnight for observation.

And as much as I want to argue against it, I know that they have a point.

When we finished the ultrasound, Dr. Martinez gave us a folder with first trimester instructions. No alcohol. Limited caffeine. Plenty of rest. Take prenatal vitamins. Avoid raw fish, unpasteurized cheese, deli meats. And be mindful of any additional bleeding.

She emphasized that stress could be particularly harmful—something that made Indigo and I exchange a knowing look. Our life isn't exactly low-stress right now.

Indigo's next appointment is in two weeks instead of the usual four. Dr. Martinez explained that given the Mifeprex scare, she wants to monitor the pregnancy more closely.

I agreed, but on the condition that she come to the mansion instead of us coming out to the hospital. She was a bit reluctant at the travel, but I made her a very generous offer.

Once Indigo has fallen asleep, I step out of the room and find Marcus waiting in the hallway. His face is weathered, but his eyes are still sharp and observant as he looks at me.

He hasn't left her side this whole time, and the concern in his eyes look fatherly.

Or what I imagine fatherly affections to look like.

"Mr. Baryshev," he says, nodding.

"Call me Anatoly," I reply. "I need to know everything that happened."

Marcus sighs, rubbing his chin. "Well, this morning, Indie just... appeared. Stumbled in with a gun in her hand. Scared the shitout of my customers. Scared the shit out of me. But she was shaking... said she needed help."

"The gun. Do you still have it?"

"No." He nods. "Wiped it clean and tossed it before the ambulance showed up."

I nod. It would’ve been nice to retrieve it, but the gun won't offer me anything other than proof that it belonged to Grisha. And the ownership doesn’t matter. He's going to be dead soon enough.

"Anyways, right after she came in." Marcus shakes his head. "Indie fainted. I caught her before she hit the floor."

"You checked her in as Jane Doe," I say. "Smart move."

Marcus just shrugs. "Been around long enough to know when discretion matters. Indie's a good worker. I take care of my own."

I nod, understanding completely. "As do I."

"Never seen her look so scared before. Had no idea her name was Amelia either. Or that she's married to you. Guess you learn something new every day about people you think you know."

"I guess you do." I spare another look down the hallway to make sure we're alone. "Your barbershop was shot up a few weeks ago when I first met her. How much did it cost to fix it? I'd like to reimburse you, as a thanks for helping my wife."

"With all due respect." Marcus gives me a level stare. "I'm not interested in your money. I know better than to take cash from someone like you. No offense meant."

I raise an eyebrow. "None taken."

"Thank you." He crosses his arms. "It's just that I've spent too many years keeping my business clean. Walked the right path after spending half my life walking the wrong one. Finally carved a piece of this world that I can be proud of. Finally moved forward. You know what I mean?"

"I do."