Chapter 65
"Why are you here," she said.
"To see you," Xander said. "To make sure you are well."
"You could have sent Elena."
"I could have," he agreed. "But I wanted to speak with you myself."
He leaned back in his chair. Relaxed. As if this were a conversation between equals.
"You're intelligent," Xander said. "I've always respected that about you. So I want to be honest with you."
Lily waited.
"The child you are carrying," Xander said, "is the most important thing in this territory. Perhaps in several territories."
He paused.
"I intend to raise it," he said. "It’s mine."
The words landed flat and clean and certain.
Lily looked at him.
She thought about screaming. About throwing the teacup across the room.
About all the things her body wanted to do with the rage that was moving through her like something physical.
She thought about Arion saying come back with his eyes closed and his chest barely moving.
She breathed.
"You intend to raise someone else's child," Lily said. Her voice came out level. Almost curious.
"My grandchild." Xander said.
"Arion's child."
Something shifted in Xander's face. Brief. Just a tightening.
"Arion is not a factor," he said.
Lily looked at him.
"He's alive," she said.
Xander shocked but then smiled again. "For now. Just matter of time."
Lily held his gaze.
“I know you can still feel him. I want to know how much longer that thread holds.”
She thought: he's telling me this to see what I do with it. He's watching my face right now the same way I'm watching his.
She let her eyes fill slightly.
Not full tears. Just the suggestion of them. Just enough to look like a woman trying not to break.
She looked away toward the window.
She heard Xander shift in his chair.
"I'm not your enemy," he said. His voice had softened. "I know that's difficult to believe. But I want you safe. I want the child safe. That is all."
Lily kept her gaze on the window.
"What do you want from me," she said. Quietly. Like she was exhausted.
"Nothing you can't give," Xander said. "Cooperation. Time. Trust, eventually."
He stood.
He buttoned his coat.
"I'll visit again in a few days," he said. "Rest. Eat. Let Elena take care of you."
He walked to the door.
Lily turned her head.
"What do you plan to tell the child," she said. "When it's old enough to ask."
Xander paused.
He looked back at her.
"The truth," he said. "That its mother loved it very much. And that she made the right choice."
He left.
The lock clicked.
Lily sat in the chair by the window and looked at nothing for a long time.
Her hands were shaking.
She pressed them flat against her thighs and waited until they stopped.
Then she picked up the notebook.
She turned to the second page.
She wrote: He plans to take the child. He will not stop. He will not negotiate. He will not be reasoned with.
She paused.
Then she wrote: Neither will I.
She closed the notebook.
She looked at the window.
Thirty-two seconds.
She started counting.
*
Fifth days into the compound and Lily had a routine.
Not by choice. By necessity.
Routine meant predictable. Predictable meant the guards relaxed. Relaxed guards watched less carefully. And less careful eyes meant room to move.
So Lily built a routine.
She woke before six. She dressed before the morning guard passed her corridor. She ate everything Elena brought her without complaint.
She sat by the window in the afternoons with the notebook open on her knee, writing nothing important, just words, just the appearance of a woman processing her circumstances quietly.
She walked the room.
Forty-two steps around the perimeter. She had measured it three times.
She did it twice every morning and twice every evening. Slow enough to look like restlessness. Deliberate enough to be exercise.
Her body needed to stay functional.
The child needed her body to stay functional.
She ate. She slept when she could.
She drank Elena's tea every morning and evening without argument because the ginger genuinely helped and pride was a luxury she had already decided she couldn't afford.
Elena came twice a day. Always at the same time. Always with tea and something warm and that patient, unhurried manner that Lily had spent four days trying to find the bottom of.
She hadn't found it yet.
*
Be First to Post Comment !
Post a Comment