I turned to face her, the fire’s glow dancing across her perfect face. “I will. Soon.”
Her smile sharpened. “Good. And don’t bother coming back. Mike, Nico, your precious daughter—they’re all mine now.” She flicked her hair back and walked away, her laughter dissolving into the crackling of burning memories.
Inside, the phone rang. Mike’s voice was sharp, cold. “Follow up with the travel agency. Make sure the arrangements are confirmed.”
I stared at the burning pile through the window as I dialed. The travel agent picked up.
“Hello, I’m cancelling the travel booking for Mr. Mike Reid and his party,” I said, my voice clear, each word like the slice of a knife. “And I’d like to avail a new ticket. For myself.”
The smell of garlic and onions filled the kitchen as I stirred the soup pot. My hands moved automatically—chop, stir, taste—while my mind drifted above the noise spilling in from the living room.
They were all there—Mike, Nico, Sasha, Maureen—sitting around the dining table, giggling like teenagers about what they’d wear for the big Disneyland trip.
“Oh, maybe I should wear the pink summer dress!” Sasha squealed, her voice syrupy sweet.