18. Robin #2
I laugh, charmed by the image of Eva trying to navigate suburban American life.
“I think you’d find Vegas limiting after a while.
Besides, Alicia seems genuinely excited about school here, which is a miracle in itself.
Adrian is obviously smitten with both Mira and this place.
Dane would be happy anywhere with a decent internet connection. ”
“And Maisie?” Eva asks.
“Maisie has recovered beyond my wildest dreams. The mountain air, the freedom to run and play—she’s healthier than she’s ever been.”
Eva’s smile turns mysterious. “There’s an old legend about this area. They say the waters of the black lake have healing properties.”
I think about my sister’s rosy cheeks, her boundless energy. “Maybe they do,” I say softly.
The moment feels too significant for the middle of a forest path. Without conscious thought, I grab Eva’s hand and pull her behind a massive oak tree, pressing her back against the rough bark as I kiss her with all the desperate love and hope and fear swirling through my chest.
She responds immediately, her arms coming around me, her mouth opening under mine with a hunger that matches my own. We kiss like teenagers ourselves—stealing moments of passion in hidden places, afraid we might be discovered but unable to resist each other.
“It’s not the lake,” Eva whispers against my lips when we finally break apart, both of us breathing hard.
“What?”
“The healing. It’s not the lake.” Her hand cups my cheek, thumb brushing across my skin with infinite tenderness. “It’s you. Being with you, having you in my life, believing that I might deserve something good...that’s what healed me .”
The words are so full of love and gratitude that I can barely process them. This woman—this powerful, dangerous, beautiful woman—thinks I saved her somehow.
“Eva—”
“I love you,” she interrupts. “Not just the passion, not just the way you make me feel in bed, but all of it. Your strength, your compassion, the way you protect the people you love. The way you see good in me, even when I can’t see it in myself.”
I’m crying now—actual tears sliding down my cheeks as I look at this incredible woman who somehow chose me out of all the possibilities in the world. Who fought for me, who turned the world upside down for me.
“I love you too,” I manage. “So much it scares me sometimes.”
We hold each other in the shadow of the ancient tree, and for this perfect moment, the future feels not just possible but inevitable.
We’re going to make this work. We’re going to build a life together in this magical place, surrounded by family and love and the kind of simple happiness I never dared dream of.
Later that afternoon, we return to the castle with exhausted but exhilarated children and a sense of contentment that feels almost too good to be true. Adrian appears shortly after we do, practically floating with euphoria.
“Good day?” I ask innocently, though his glow is visible from across the courtyard.
“Best day ever,” he says with the kind of dreamy smile that makes me want to tease him mercilessly.
Instead, I just squeeze his shoulder and let him bask in whatever perfect moment he and Mira shared in the forest.
Later, or tomorrow—some day soon, anyway—I’ll gather my siblings together and ask them if they might like to stay here.
I’m feeling more and more certain that they will say yes, especially as the evening unfolds with the comfortable rhythms we’ve established over the past few days.
Dinner is a lively affair, with Dimi regaling us with increasingly outrageous stories about his supposed adventures in Monte Carlo.
The kids hang on his every word, even when the tales become so elaborate that they’re obviously fiction.
“And now,” he says with dramatic flair, “I’ll tell you the story of why I am no longer welcome at the best casino in Monaco.”
“Because you won too much money?” Maisie asks with wide eyes.
“Because I accidentally started a food fight with the Prince of Liechtenstein,” Dimi replies solemnly.
Even Adrian cracks a smile at that one.
As bedtime approaches, I feel that familiar sense of gratitude washing over me. My siblings are safe, healthy, and happier than I’ve seen them in years. Eva and I have found our way to something real and lasting. The future spreads before us, full of possibilities.
It’s almost too perfect. Almost enough to make me forget Eva’s premonitions about darkness coming.
But as the kids settle into their rooms and the adults prepare to retire for the evening, that nagging sense of unease returns. The calm feels fragile somehow, like a soap bubble that might burst at the slightest touch.
I’m being paranoid, I tell myself. Eva’s gothic imagination is rubbing off on me. There’s no reason to expect?—
The sudden roar of a dirt bike engine cuts through the night air. The sound is wrong—too aggressive, too urgent for Mira’s usual careful riding.
Dimi looks up from his brandy with a frown. “Rather late for joyriding, isn’t it?”
Before anyone can answer, the great doors of the hall burst open. Mira stumbles inside, her hair wild, her face flushed and desperate. She’s breathing hard.
“Men,” she gasps out between ragged breaths. “Many of them, heavily armed, making for the castle. I only just got away?—”
“Perhaps they’re ours?” Dimi suggests hopefully, though his voice lacks conviction.
“They are not,” Mira says with absolute certainty.
The words hit me like ice water. All that contentment, all that hope for our peaceful future, evaporates in an instant.
Eva is already moving, her face transformed from relaxed contentment to cold calculation in the space of a heartbeat.
She runs from the hall, taking the great stone staircase two steps at a time.
I follow, my heart hammering against my ribs as we climb to the second-story windows that overlook the approach road.
Eva reaches the top first, her hands pressed against the glass as she peers out the window and into the darkness. In the distance, I can see lights moving through the forest—vehicle headlights cutting through the night like malevolent eyes.
“It’s a convoy,” Eva says, her voice hard as the stone walls around us. “We are about to be under attack.”