Page 111 of Thorns of Silence

I tilted my head, excusing myself, and made my way across the lawn. Skye’s eyes met mine and she ran over to me.

I sat in a crisscross position, enjoying the feel of the cool grass under my legs, and watched as she took the spot next to me. “Do you feel like that too, Phoenix?”

“Left out?” She nodded. “Sometimes,” I admitted. “It helps if I people-watch.”

Her delicate eyebrows scrunched as she watched me with those big sapphire-blue eyes. “What’s that?”

“It’s just a way to observe. Studying people’s expressions. Sometimes they say more with their eyes than their lips.”

“Like when Branka is mad and her lips go really thin? Or when Sasha is mad and his vein pulses right there?”

She pointed to my temple and I chuckled. “Exactly. See, you’re doing it already.”

She nodded somberly. “I don’t like it all the time. Do you?”

“In the beginning—” When she gave me a confused look, I added, “When I was a little girl, I didn’t like it. My mamma said I was special, but I didn’t want to be. I wanted to be like everyone else. Like my sister.”

Her eyes widened. “You have a sister?”I nodded. “She’s not like you?”

“No, but she’s the best friend I’ve ever had. She’s the one who turned it into a game. The two of us would watch people and guess what their eyes were saying versus their lips.”

She let out a heavy sigh. “I wish I had a sister. Or a mommy who was like me.” My chest pulsed with an ache at seeing the pain on her face. Maybe she wasn’t as happy with Branka and Sasha as I’d thought.

“You don’t like it here with Branka and Sasha?” I asked with trembling fingers.

Her eyes locked on me. “They’re okay, but they’re not like me.”

I swallowed a lump in my throat. Maybe there was a chance for me to get my daughter back. Maybe she’d be happier with me. So many thoughts danced through my mind at the possibilities.

A shadow fell over me and I slowly looked up to find Sasha hovering over us, watching me suspiciously.

I flashed him a smile and waved my hand.

“What are you two talking about?” he inquired, watching Skye with a soft expression.

“Just mommies and daddies,” Skye answered, probably sensing it’d be wrong to admit to him what she’d really said.

Tatiana, Isabella, and Branka came to grab me and pull me into their conversation. The armed robbery seemed to be a distant history despite the fact that it had only happened a few hours ago. These people were unlike any family I had ever witnessed. Badass. And terrifying.

For the next two hours, I was part of the Nikolaev family. They talked and laughed as I watched their interactions, and through it all, I knew my betrayal would seal my fate.

* * *

After hours of Isabella’s attempts at cooking and burning every dish she put in the oven, her husband finally put his foot down and ushered us all out of the house and into a caravan of vehicles. I couldn’t decide whether we looked like a funeral procession or a presidential escort.

I would have ditched thepartya long time ago, but I wanted to stay around Skye for as long as possible. So when the Nikolaevs insisted I go out to dinner with them, I agreed.

Black-and-white pictures of the French Quarter hung on the walls. The round tables were covered with dark blue tablecloths. A mahogany bar ran across one wall and some of the men headed straight for it.

Tatiana ushered me, Branka, Isabella, and Aurora—Alexei’s wife who was an FBI agent, a fact I was steadily ignoring—to the large booths, and I hung back so I could take the last seat. I hated feeling cornered.

The children took the table closest to us. The chandeliers, dating a few centuries back and looking better suited to a castle, cast a warm glow over everyone. It was the type of restaurant that was both romantic and casual.

The commotion and chaotic atmosphere made me feel like a fish out of water.

Warm air brushed my skin as the door opened and a man dressed in a striped three-piece suit strode in, taking up a booth closest to the emergency exit.

I glanced down at my yellow T-shirt dress and white Chucks. It wasn’t exactly appropriate for dinner, and it only registered now that everyone else was dressed for a black-tie dinner.