“Speaking from experience?”
She thought of her own mother, her affection and resentment, her disappointment and dejection, her love, and she nodded. “I’ve learned that by focusing on the best memories, I’m happiest. That’s not to say you should turn someone into a saint after they’ve passed, but peace comes from remembering the times that made you smile.” She turned her back on the ocean, looking towards the house. It was lit in every room, glowing golden like a lantern. It was charming and she couldn’t help but smile, even when there was a pervasive heaviness beginning to overtake her.
“You’re very wise.”
She laughed again. “I’m flattered.” Was Leonidas in the house? Or the garden? Suddenly, she ached for him, yearned to be here with him, not Thanasi. She shrugged out of his jacket and handed it back, eyes not quite meeting the older brother’s.
“Being a twin is a strange thing,” Thanasi said, unprompted. “You’re connected in a way that defies explanation.”
“You’re referring to Valentina and Leo?”
“And myself and Dimitrios. We’re twins also.”
“I didn’t know that,” she murmured, eyes wide. “The gene must be very strong in your family.”
He nodded once, his eyes on the glow of the house. “I often wonder about how Val’s death shaped Leo. It wasn’t just that they were inseparable, but also, that inexplicable connection, that was severed. Suddenly, he was adrift, even when surrounded by family.” Thanasi rubbed a hand over his jaw, a gesture she’d noticed he made when he was lost in thought. “Dimitrios doesn’t need to speak for me to know how he’s feeling—even when I do not often understandwhy,” he admitted gruffly. “To most people, his features are an expressionless mask, but Ifeelas he feels.”
Mila contemplated that. “You think losing Val changed Leo.”
“It changed us all. Him most of all.” Thanasi offered a look of puzzlement, then a tight smile. “You are extremely easy to talk to.”
She toyed with her fingers in front of her stomach. “I’m glad you’re talking to me.” But what sense could she make of it? What did any of this mean?
“I wonder if losing a part of himself, at that age, made Leo determined to keep people at a distance. He is better at it than anyone I know,” Thanasi said, finally, and Mila understood, at last, the point he was making. It was a warning, and she heeded it.
“I’ve been in survival mode too,” she said simply. “I understand that sometimes we do whatever it takes to protect ourselves.”
“Even if it means sacrificing far too much?”
She contemplated that. She’d given up a lot for her career, a lot to achieve this one goal that now seemed strange to contemplate, that she found almost impossible to grasp in that moment, but she nodded regardless. “Even then.” The words were spoken with a conviction she didn’t entirely feel.
“There you are,”Leonidas’ voice broke through the night sky and Mila turned to him slowly, her mind spinning, whirring, cogs turning as she tried to slot Thanasi’s well-intentioned warning into what she already knew of Leonidas, and more importantly, to understand her feelings, which rioted in all directions. It was like trying to grab a bar of soap under bathwater. There was no clarity here, just opaque half-thoughts and slippery non-comprehensions.
“Here I am.”
He stopped walking, perhaps something in her tone unsettled him. “I’ve been looking for you.”
It was an unnecessary elucidation. She gestured to the seat he’d occupied at dinner, which she’d spent the better part of the hour staring at. “You found me.”
His considered her for several moments before speaking. “I have good news.”
She stayed perfectly still, every muscle in her body poised for what he was about to say.
He moved to the seat across from Mila, but didn’t sit down, rather he rested his palms on the back of the chair and stared across at her. “The police have someone in custody.”
It was the last thing Mila had expected him to say. She could no longer contain her response, but rather, began to shake from head to toe as months and months and months of worry and stress and of being hunted chipped away and she felt, for the first time, a true sense that maybe everything would be okay again.
“Who?”
She braced for that, too, certain, like Leonidas, that it was an inside job. Someone she knew and trusted. The idea made her gut twist and nausea rise.
“A fan,” he said, simply, pulling his phone from his pocket. “Do you know him?”
Leonidas opened an image and held it for Mila to see. She stared at the face—a kind face, a man perhaps in his thirties, with nice eyes and a smile in place. She shook her head, but then, something hovered in the back of her mind, something she couldn’t place. “I don’t. I don’t know. I might have taken a photo with him, after an event. He’s a little familiar to me, I think.” She furrowed her brow. “Is it important that I know him?”
“No, not at all,” Leonidas assured her. “Grieg tells me that in cases like this, stalkers can latch onto celebrities and obsess about them to the point they feel the connection is real, when of course, it isn’t.”
“But why?” She whispered.