Snatched Two Husbands, But They Both Remember the Fire Chapter 10

Snatched Two Husbands, But They Both Remember the Fire Chapter 10

The main house was dark.

No servants. No parties. No Mama Ross in the halls.

Alexander was in the library. Dark sweater. Hair in his face. Coffee cold in front of him.

“Big sister,” he said. His eyes looked different. “One third of her people are gone. Left tonight.”

“That’s not nothing.”

“The rest won’t do her dirty work anymore. Sophia went to some people today. They wouldn’t see her.”

He handed me a letter.

“We’re done with Mama Ross. Everything in her name? It’s yours.”

I put the letter down.

“They change fast.”

“Not changing. Just picking the right side.”

He looked at me. Smiled.

“Big sister. We won.”

His voice was nothing. But his eyes? Red. More red than any of the times he was playing to a crowd.

Because this was real. Just us. Two kids with no mom. Looking at each other in a dark room.

“We won.”

I stayed at the main house that night.

Alexander put me in my old room. New sheets. Flowers on the table.

My mother’s flowers.

I sat on the bed. Touched the wood. A scratch on the headboard. A face I carved when I was five. Lopsided. But smiling.

I didn’t know anything then. Not about hate. Not about power. Not about people who smile while they hurt

you.

All I knew was my mother was gone. And I was sad. So I drew a happy face.

But you can’t draw happy.

Not really.

Alexander at the door. Milk in his hand. Still warm. Sweatshirt. Slippers.

“You couldn’t sleep when you were little. I used to make you milk.”

“You were six. Could you reach the stove?”

“Stood on a chair.” He handed it to me. Sat down. The bed dipped.

“Big sister.”

“Yeah.”

“You ever mad at me?”

“For what?”

“For not growing up faster. For not keeping you safe.”

I held the milk.

“You were making me milk at six. What else you think you should’ve done?”

“More,” he said. “I’d give all of this to have her back.”

Quiet.

The moon was full.

“Alexander,” I said. “She took that medicine to protect you.”

“I know,” his voice cracked. “That’s why it hurts.”

I put the milk down. Hugged him.

He’s bigger than me. Wider. But he was six again in my arms.

“Big sister,” he said into my shoulder.

“Yeah.”

“You okay?”

“I’m okay,” I said. “I’m okay now.”

Herred them On my shunten

Morning A note from him on my table.

“Pig sister Food in the kitchen. Coffes ready. Sexy lee days. This place was yours once too Maybe ther hungry somurature. Still there Waiting”

At the bottom, a face Lopsided smile

Bare an ice on the headboard.

I stayed three days.

Alexander was gone early. Back late. But every morning, a note

Day two: “It’s raining, There’s an umbrella in your closer, Black”

Day three, Pig, dinner tonight. Tell me what you want.*

Day four: “The weather is good. Time to come home.*

“Home” in a circle. Arrow pointing to his words: *Our home.”

Not “the house.” Not “this place.” Our home.

I took the pen. Wrote under it: “I’ll cook tonight. You wash dishes.*

Went back to my estate. The garden. Two men in the doorway.

Luca on the left. Rocco on the right.

Car pulled up. Poth stood up straight.

“Where were you?” Rocco.

“Why so late?” Lusca.

Both. At the same time.

“Long Island,” I said.

“What’s in Long Island?” Rocco,

“Sophia.”

I just don’t want to use my energy on her anymore.

“Where do you want to use it?”

I opened my eyes. Fire in his eyes. Two little suns.

“Here,” I said. “Living Being good to people.”

Didn’t finish.

Luca came out. Hot chocolate, Cookies,

“Winter needs hot chocolate,” he said. “My mom made it when I was sick.”

“I’m not sick.”

“Your face says you had a bad day.”

He held out a cookie.

“Eat. You’ll feel better.”

I took it.

Rocco took one too.

Crunch.

“Too sweet.”

“Did I give you one?”

“I took it.”

“You’re stealing from her plate?”

“No. I’m sharing.”

That winter. Coldest in ten years.

I didn’t feel it.

Behind me. Two fires.