“Should we go back?” Rodion’s voice was low, but it caught me off guard. I faced him. His hand rested on the wheel, his eyes pinned on me.
A soft laugh slipped from my throat as I unbuckled. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”
The corner of his mouth curved. He tipped his chin toward the house. “The dog’s already barking for you.”
Vivo’s little barks carried through the door, sharp and impatient. He had always been quick to sense visitors, scratching and howling as though the world was ending. I was even surprised he hadn’t figured out how to open the door by now.
My body shifted, a hesitation pressing me against the seat. I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or resentment.
“You alright?” Rodion asked.
I let out a slow breath. “I’m about to hear that I have a half-brother.”
“If he looks like you, maybe he’s the one who should be nervous.”
That drew a genuine laugh from me, easing the weight inside. I nodded. “Alright then.” My hand settled on the door. “You said I can’t stay here tonight?”
“No.”
I swallowed the truth with a slight nod. “Okay.” My fingers closed around the handle again. “I’m off, then.” I stepped out and made my way to the gate. The hinges groaned as I unlatched it, a rusty protest that scraped through the area. Vivo’s barkpitched higher, claws raking against the door in frantic rhythm.
By the time I reached the porch, his bark had shifted to that low groan he saved for people he loved, playful and insistent. My chest softened. He knew I was here. I knocked once, then turned. Rodion had stepped out and leaned against the car. He was busy on his phone.
The door opened, and Mamma appeared, blinking as if I were a ghost on her threshold. I smiled, but Vivo threw himself at me before I could speak, paws scrambling, tongue dragging across my cheek.
“Hey, boy.” I crouched low, arms circling him tight, rubbing the familiar warmth of his sides. He licked me, making up for the days without my presence. “I missed you too.”
Mamma’s voice cut through, wary. “How are you here?”
I didn’t rise. My hand stayed on Vivo’s head as I looked up at her. “Surprise.”
Her face didn’t break into joy. There was no anger either. She was caught between words. Her gaze slid past me to Rodion by the car, and a sharp gasp slipped out.
“Come in,” she said quickly, stepping aside.
I glanced back. Rodion had lifted his eyes to mine. For a moment, he held the stare, then dropped it back to his phone.
Mamma still held the door open, but the only creature truly glad to have me home was Vivo. He lunged at my legs with his clumsy joy, nearly knocking me forward.
Inside, the house greeted me with its same sweetness, like something was baking, even when the oven was cold. Mamma had kept it that way. Her love for food had long been the mask she draped over everything else.
We neared the living room. The voices from the television bled through before I stepped around Vivo. I froze. Papa sat in his favorite chair, leg propped on the footrest.
“Papa?” My voice cracked sharper than I meant.
His head lifted, startled. I started toward him, but slowed when I saw someone else in the room.
A guy sat sprawled on the opposite sofa. He wore a navy jersey and jeans. His black hair was messy, not the kind you comb, but the kind you give up trying to fix. He didn’t smile; his face carried the weight of someone who’d seen too much to bother with pleasantries. I couldn’t place why, but something about him made my spine stiffen.
Papa’s voice yanked me back. “Why didn’t you say you were coming?”
I rushed to him, dropped into his arms for a brief embrace, then pulled away fast, eyes falling to the bandage wrapping his leg.
“The same way you don’t tell me things,” I said, fingers hovering over the gauze. “No one bothered to tell me you got injured. No wonder Mamma’s been brushing me off.”
From behind, Mamma’s voice sliced in. “I did?”
I glanced over my shoulder, narrowing my eyes. “You weren’t good at hiding it. I knew something was off.” My hand skimmed the edge of his bandage. “Can you walk?”