Mia stared down at our clasped hands for a long time, his expression flickering through several different emotions.
It was the first time I noticed how different our hands were. Mine were large and dark, but while they had a few small scars, they were relatively unscathed. In contrast, Mia’s hands were small and pale. At first glance, they seemed delicate enough to snap if he tried to lift so much as a pencil. However, closer inspection revealed how tough they really were. Scars knotted the skin on the backs of his hands like old tree bark that had weathered ages, and his palms still showed traces of calluses even after his long coma.
Our hands were nothing alike, but between the two of us, it was impossible to tell who had survived the real war zone.
“Your daughter can come,” Mia said, snapping me out of my distracted thoughts. “Of course she can come. I’m…” He trailed off for a moment, looked back at the closed door to the guest bedroom. “I’m just a guest here. The girl shouldn’t be kept from her home because of me.”
There would be no point in arguing further. Mia was determined to take this whole thing personally, no matter what I said. Although he was physically on the small side and rather soft-spoken, he could be surprisingly stubborn when he wanted to be.
If only I could convince him to be equally stubborn about his own well-being.
I would just have to hope that Melody’s enthusiasm over meeting him could eventually convince him that he was in fact wanted here. When confronted with that girl’s smiling face, no negative emotion could possibly stand a chance.
CHAPTER 19
Auggie
The very next day,Melody arrived at the apartment along with Chantal. They were only staying for a short visit, as both Chantal and I agreed Melody shouldn’t sleep over while Mia was here. At least, not yet. Maybe that could change in the future, depending on how long Mia stayed, but for now it wouldn’t be appropriate. Nor would it be worth the headache to figure out who would sleep where.
There were only two beds in the apartment, after all.
I feared that Melody would be upset when she learned that someone else was using her new bedroom, but to my surprise, she was actually delighted. She really did seem to view Mia as some sort of stray pet that she had brought home and seemed to consider having him sleep in her bed as a completely natural thing.
I wondered if it had anything to do with the fact that he’d been in a coma when she first met him. Perhaps, she thought he was like one of the figures in her fairytales, forced to fall into a cursedsleep at night. Many of the fairytales I’d read to Mia while he’d been in the coma had a strange fascination with sleep, so I was sure Melody had heard such stories as well. If she considered herself the thing that Mia needed to wake up, then maybe she viewed offering him her bedroom as an act of heroism.
It was hard to tell what children were thinking. Their minds often wandered into places and connected thoughts that an adult would never even consider. I decided it wasn’t worth trying to figure out why Melody was so happy to offer up her room and was just grateful that she wasn’t upset.
Five-year-old tantrums were the worst. They had just enough logic to argue, but not enough to understand any reasoning you might try to give them. We really had lucked out this time.
After learning that Mia now resided in her room, Melody’s next step was to insist that he be introduced to every single one of her toys. The way she explained each of their names and backstories made them almost seem like real people, rather than stuffed animals and dolls. It was almost like Mia was being presented as the new guest at a party, and Melody was the gracious host ensuring that all her new friends were familiar with each other.
Mia didn’t say a word as he sat on the edge of the bed, listening to her ramble and automatically accepting any toy she handed to him. If I didn’t know better, I almost would have thought that he really was some sort of life-sized doll.
Off to the side, Chantal and I watched the scene from the bedroom doorway. I breathed a sigh of relief, thinking that everything was going well, until Chantal spoke up.
“Why’s he staring at her like that?”
I looked over at Chantal, asking what she meant.
She just nodded at Mia, whispering so the other two in the room wouldn’t hear.
“He’s been staring at Melody ever since she arrived. I’m not even sure he’s blinked.”
She was right, of course. I hadn’t noticed because I’d gotten so used to Mia’s wide-eyed observation of the world around him that it just seemed natural, but now that I was paying attention, I realized his expression was different. This wasn’t his usual distracted attention, where his eyes constantly flickered all around like he was trying to memorize everything all at once. No, right now, his attention was locked on Melody with an intense focus the likes of which I’d never seen from him before. His gaze tracked her every move, and although he didn’t say anything, I could tell that something hung on the tip of his tongue just waiting to be spoken into existence.
Not knowing what else to do, I turned back to Chantal and shrugged.
“His memories are a bit… all over the place ever since he woke up. I’m not quite sure how much he remembers about anything. Melody might be the first kid he ever remembers meeting, so it would make sense that he’s curious about her. I don’t think he means any harm.”
I’d hoped to reassure her, but Chantal continued to frown as she watched Mia and Melody.
“You can’t know that for certain,” she said. “If the coma messed with his memories, then you don’t know who he really is at all. Have you had any luck identifying him?”
I wished I could say otherwise, but despite my efforts, I’d made no more progress tracking down Mia’s identity. Reluctantly, I shook my head.
Chantal clicked her tongue while one painted nail started nervously tapping on her crossed arms.
“If you haven’t identified him, then for all you know he could be a criminal. Maybe even a predator. We should probably keep Melody away from him until we know for sure.”