Sheila and Bruce are both fussing over a tiny little white ball of fluff.
“It hatched. We have a baby.” Lara presses her fingers over her mouth.
Fuck. Why do I want to cry?
“I’m so proud of them. Look at how good they are.”
Lara nods to our birds, pure elation on her face.
Lara would make an amazing mom. Maybe one day. Not yet. We don’t think it would be good to have that pressure on her body.
She’s doing so well with her recovery. She seems happy. She’s eating.
Once we find Mikhail, things will be perfect for her.
Her palm rests on my wrist. “Do we need to call a vet or something?”
Shit, why didn’t I think of this?
“I don’t think so. They seem healthy. I’m not sure a vet would let us keep them.”
“I’ll find a corrupt one. I’d never let them go.”
I squeeze Lara closer to me.
“Baby flamingos are so cute. I’m obsessed.”
“You’re cuter,” I tell her, pressing a kiss to her temple.
We moved into the house I bought Lara for her birthday right after our wedding. It’s only been three weeks but we’ve got a few rooms decorated.
It keeps us occupied while we search for Mikhail. Enzo is doing his best but it’s like Mikhail’s become a ghost.
There’s no remains of the plane.
No sign of him.
I know what I saw.
But I also know Mikhail.
That man’s been to hell once already and survived.
I have no doubt he can do it again.
