I eventually found myself in front of Matthew’s hospital room. Standing outside were two men in


    ck. suits, one of whom looked familiar.


    It hit me he was one of Thorsten’s bodyguards.


    Thorsten wasn’t even trying to keep a low profile. It’s like he didn’t care if people thought he was


    straight- up mafia or something.


    Since he was already there, I wasn’t about to just waltz in. But going back to Yuna’s room wasn’t


    happening either, so I wandered over to the hospital’s little garden.


    I barely sat down on a bench when this tiny voice piped up, “Miss, will you y ball with me?”


    I looked down to see a little girl, maybe three or four, staring at me with these big, puppy–dog eyes.


    Ugh. I wasn’t really in the mood, but how was I supposed to say no?


    “Sure,” I said, figuring it’d be five minutes, tops. But once we started, I got all these shbacks of


    ying ball with my parents when I was a kid.


    “Miss, you’re kinda clumsy.


    “Oops, you missed again.


    “Miss…”


    I


    I was not only stuck ying, but I was getting roasted by a toddler. Awesome. But, honestly? I was


    kinda having a good time.


    “Milly!” a voice called, snapping us out of our game.


    I looked up and saw this drop–dead gorgeous woman in a strapless top and high–waisted pants,


    strutting


    over.


    “Mommy, I’m ying with thisdy!” Milly said, brushing her messy hair out of her face.


    “Milly, your dad’s done visiting. We gotta go,” her mom said.


    Milly puffed out her bottom lip in full pout mode. “But I wanna y longer!”


    “No, we’ll bete, and your dad won’t wait for us,” the woman said, strutting over in seven–inch


    stilettos like the grass was a runway.


    Watching her try to walk on soft grass in those heels made me nervous. One wrong step, and she’d


    be down. But nope, she totally had it under control, moving like it was no big deal.


    Without even ncing at me, she reached for Milly. “Come on, let’s go. You’re getting harder to


    handle every day.”


    “No! I just wanna y a little longer, Just a bit!” Milly whined, holding up one finger.


    Belonging ? N?velDram/a.Org.


    “Fine, stay and y, I’m leaving,” her mom said, sounding super frustrated, clearly hoping to scare


    Milly into listening.


    The whole thing was getting awkward, so I tried to help “Milly, how about you head home for now?


    Next


    time you’re here, I’ll y with you again, okay?”


    Milly crossed her arms, her voice sharper than a four–year–old’s should be. “Next time I won’t see


    you. You’re a stranger.”


    Ouch. Kid wasn’t wrong. I gently patted her head. “Maybe, but who knows? If fate lets it, we might


    meet again.”


    “Come on,e on,” the woman muttered, tugging at Milly’s arm. Then, under her breath, she


    added, Didn’t I tell you not to talk to strangers? What if she kidnaps you?”


    I waspletely speechless.


    “She’s not a kidnapper! She’s my friend. At least she ys with me. You and Dad never do,” Milly


    shot back, hands on her hips, totally standing her ground.


    The woman’s eyes red. “You’re really pushing it-”


    She raised her hand, and before I could think, I stepped forward, instinctively shielding Milly. But


    then, a deep voice sliced through the air.


    “Sasha Grey, life must be too easy f


    That voice sent a chill down my spine.


    if you think you cany a hand on my daughter.”


    I looked up, and there he was. Thorsten. Of course.


    I blinked, ncing from Milly, still in my arms, to Thorsten’s gaze, then to the woman, Sasha Grey,


    who looked about my age. My brain was doing flips.


    “Daddy!” Milly wriggled out of my arms and ran straight to him.


    Thorsten scooped her up like she weighed nothing, nting a kiss on her cheek. “Don’t worry, I’ve


    got you now.”


    The tension on Sasha’s face was obvious, even under her thickyer of makeup. She quickly


    sashayed over to Thorsten, trying to defend herself. “Thorsten, I was just teaching her not to talk to


    strangers. You know how it is–kidnappers everywhere. What if something happened to her?”


    She shot a sharp look my way, like it was very clear who the “stranger” was. I gave her a half–smile,


    feeling awkward, and started to turn to leave.


    But then Thorsten, with his usual cool, said, “She’s not a kidnapper.” He looked at me and, with the


    slightest smirk, asked, “Right?”