Page 162 of Saint Céline
“After class.”
“I will be fine.”
Sophia’s face stayed the same. “We will come tomorrow.”
There was no point arguing with that tone. I nodded.
Anya hugged me first, hard enough that Miss Astoria made a disgusted noise from the windowsill. “If he murders you, haunt me with every detail,” she whispered.
I laughed into her shoulder. “I will.”
“I am serious.”
“I know.”
Sophia hugged me next, longer and quieter.
“You can still come back,” she said against my hair.
The words pressed against something raw.
“I know,” I whispered.
She pulled back and studied my face. “Do you?”
I nodded once.
She did not look convinced. Neither was I.
When they left the apartment felt instantly different.
Vincent closed the door and locked it. I heard the click from down the hall.
Miss Astoria turned her head from the window.
I stood in the middle of the guest room with my coat still on, aware of every single thing around me.
He stood in the doorway.
“You should eat,” he said.
I laughed softly. “Is that your new plan? Domestic concern?”
“You barely ate today.”
“You do not know that.”
His silence told me he had guessed correctly.
I took off my coat and hung it over the chair.
“I am not hungry.”
“I ordered soup. It seemed unlikely you would want anything more elaborate.”
I looked at him then. He stood in the doorway of the room he had prepared as if it were the most ordinary thing in the world.
“You brought my father back into my life.”
