With one last grin, I wink and slam the door in his face. Then, turning on the spot, I find a painfully beautiful Minka Mayet lying back on my couch, while on her hips, Mia sits and colors, using Minka’s chest as a tray to hold her books.
A little girl of pigtails and perfection straddles a woman who protects the innocent… and murders folks who seek to harm them.
“It’s gonna be fine.” Minka’s words are for me, I’m sure, though her eyes don’t leave Mia, and she speaks in monotone. “He’s helping her. Eventually, she’ll thank him. And twenty years from now, Mia will be thankful she was raised in a better environment.”
“Where’s my mommy?” For the first time in twenty-four hours, Mia asks that question. Not scared. Not sad. Not worried. Merely… questioning. “Is she still sleeping?”
“Daddy’s going to see her,” Minka answers gently. “He’s going to your house right now to tell her hello.”
I circle the couch and come to sit on the coffee table, while Mia’s hands remain steady as she colors. “Will she come here to play?”
“She’s actually feeling a little bit sick,” I answer. Finally, Minka rolls her head my way and studies my eyes in silence. “Mommy has a big tummy ache, Moo. So Daddy has gone over there to help her.”
“What’s he gonna do?” She flicks her wrist and colors the wispy mane of a unicorn. “Give her more medicine?”
“No. He won’t give her medicine,” Minka interjects. I know she sees in her mind what I see in mine: a needle in Jada’s veins, a syringe filled with something that’ll soon kill her. “But he’ll take her to a doctor. He’ll help her get all better. Do you, uh… do you have any other questions about what’s going on?”
“Hmm…” Mia purses her adorable little lips and considers long enough to make my palms sweat.
Is my mom going to die? Is my dad going to hurt Mom? Is the state going to take me away? Am I an unlovable little girl no one wants?
Every worst-case scenario sprints through my brain and makes my heart rush faster.
Then Mia smiles and stares into Minka’s eyes. “Can I have ice cream for dessert?”
“Yup!” I surge up from my seat and dash across my apartment.Please let there be ice cream. Please let there be some left. “I think you should have a shower after this too, okay, Moo? We kinda forgot to get you cleaned up last night.”
Swinging the freezer door wide, I almost panic when I find no tub of ice cream. But in the corner, at the back, I find one of the chocolate-coated kinds on a stick.
The kid likes sticks.
“Do you want Uncle Arch to help you with the shower? Or Minka?” I look back at the pair. “Or you can do it yourself. I bet you’re pretty capable, huh?”
Silence hangs for a moment while Mia colors and her tongue comes out to help her concentrate.
“Moo? What do you wan—”
“What does cababable mean?”
“Capable?” I snatch the dessert from my freezer and push the door shut. Tearing off the wrapping, I make my way across the room and slow in the gap between the table and the couch. “It means you know how to do it yourself. Can you shower on your own, or do you want someone to help you?”
“I can do it.” Without moving off Minka, Mia sits back and accepts her dessert with a sly grin. “I not wash my hair.”
“You want help to wash it?” I sit down on the table and hate,hatehow Minka’s hand dangles over the side of the couch, and my fingers tingle to grab on and demand we somehow re-home the fucking wolf.
“No. I not wash my hair,” Mia repeats. “Don’t like it.”
“Oh!” I sit taller and clamp my hands together so I don’t touch. “Well, that sounds like Daddy’s problem, not ours. You don’t have to wash your hair tonight, Moo, but I think you should have a shower and get ready for bed soon, okay?”
“You have to be sparkly and clean for the ball,” Minka adds. “Can’t wear a shiny dress if you don’t have clean skin.”
“Okay.” Clumsily, Mia attempts to scoot off Minka’s hips, and drops to her feet with a stumble so I’m forced to reach out and help her balance. “I can sleepwifChloe tonight?”
Chloe doesn’t seem to like sleeping anywhere but on my head, but I don’t say that. Instead, I hedge, “Maybe. If she comes to you, you can sleep with her.”
“But you shouldn’t pick her up,” Minka adds. “You could hurt her. And if you scare her, she might accidentally hurt you while trying to run away.”
“I won’t pick her up.” Crossing my living room with chocolate and ice cream dribbling along her chin, and sticky fingers, Mia stops at the entrance to the hall. “Can I have my ice cream in the shower?”