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Broken Whispers (Perfectly Imperfect #2)(20)

Author:Neva Altaj

“Bianca prepared lunch. She says if you are quiet and eat your launch, she will teach you ballet.”

“Yes! Yes, Bianca. I will be quiet. Do you really know ballet?”

I smile and nod, then put my finger on my lips again.

“Come, Lena.” Sisi takes her hand. “Let’s go change so you don’t get food on your pretty dress.”

While Sisi helps Lena change, I set the table for the three of us and tidy up the mess I made in the kitchen while preparing lunch. Sisi brings Lena back a few minutes later and the three us sit down to eat. During the meal, we have to remind Lena at least five more times to be quiet. As I watch Sisi with Lena, they seem to get along exceptionally well. A question comes to mind, so I take my phone, type, then show Sisi the screen.

“I’ve been working for Mikhail since Lena was a baby,” she responds. “He hired me when Lena came to live with him. She was two weeks old.”

My eyes widen. How did Mikhail manage with a baby so small, all by himself? Sisi couldn’t be there twenty-four seven. I take the phone and type another question, then pass it to Sisi.

“Yes, it was hard. But Lena was a really good baby, she barely cried at all, and I came every day, but still . . .” She sighs. “I don’t know how he pulled it off. During the first couple of months, he barely slept, but after Lena started sleeping through the night, it got easier. I offered to start taking her to day care during the day and stay overnight, but he declined. It took me a week to convince him to finally let her go when she was two. He loves her very much.”

Yes. Anyone can see how much Mikhail adores his daughter. Especially someone like me, who was raised by parents like mine.

“Bianca, Bianca, can you show me ballet now?” Lena asks, swinging her legs forward and back.

I help her down from her chair, and taking her hand in mine, I lead the way into my room.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay?” Sisi asks, but I just shake my head and raise my thumb up. I’ll find a way to entertain Lena until Mikhail gets up.

I take my phone from the nightstand and look at the time. Almost six in the evening. Shit. Looks like I’m getting too old for pulling two all-nighters in a row. Sisi probably went home already, which means that Bianca is watching Lena. My daughter is a good kid, but she’s a handful.

After a quick shower, I walk out of my bedroom, expecting to find the girls watching TV or something, but there is no one in the living room or anywhere around. The door to Lena’s room is closed, a faint sound of a children’s song coming from inside. I open the door slightly to see what’s going on, and my hand stills on the handle. With her back to the door, Bianca is standing in the middle of the room, her arms raised over her head. She has one of those fluffy white skirts on over her jeans and her ballet slippers. Next to her, Lena is in a similar position, standing on her toes and wearing one of Bianca’s shorter stage skirts. It reaches almost to Lena’s feet.

Bianca lowers one of her hands, taps Lena on the back to straighten her spine, and starts rotating herself slowly until she sees me standing in the doorway. She smiles at me, and it feels like a ray of light on freezing cold skin.

“Daddy, Daddy, I’m a ballerina. See?”

I look down at Lena, who is twirling herself on the tips of her toes.

“I see, zayka.”

“I want ballerina shoes like Bianca’s. Please. Bianca, tell Daddy I need the shoes. I have the skirt, but I need the shoes.”

I bend to scoop Lena into my arms, set her on my hip, and place a kiss on her head.

“We’ll buy the shoes, Lenochka,” I say and look at Bianca, who is sitting on the bed, removing her slippers. “I’m sorry. I fell asleep.”

She cocks her head to the side, regarding me, then stands up and walks toward me. Leaving her slippers on Lena’s dresser, she takes the hem of my left sleeve and starts carefully pulling it up. When she has the sleeve pulled up to my elbow, she inspects the bandage around my forearm. There is no blood, but it’s wet from my shower. Bianca lets go of my arm, narrows her eyes at me, and heads into the kitchen.

“Daddy, can we watch Elsa on the big TV? Can we, Daddy?”

“Sure, zayka.”

I take Lena to the living room, put on the movie, and sit down on the couch next to her. It must be the hundredth time I’m watching the thing, but Lena loves it. There is a sound of bare feet on the floor, and Bianca comes over and sits on the coffee table in front of me, holding the box with compresses and bandages I keep under the sink. She places the box on the table next to her and looks pointedly at my forearm until I extend my left arm. She removes the wet bandage and dressing, then gently cleans the cut and wraps a fresh bandage. I expected her to leave when she’s done. Instead, she moves herself to sit on the couch next to me, curling her legs under her, and focuses on the movie.

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