head to toe, in a black velvet coat, with white stockings, and shiny black shoes. He stood in the center of the smal stage, and looked so confident, so in control. He looked like he might be…Russian.
But even more than that: his voice was mesmerizing. As he sang, Pol y was transfixed. She was completely riveted, helpless to do anything but listen, helpless to look anywhere else.
Pol y was lost in a daze as the singing ended, stil staring, stil hearing his final notes, while everyone else got up, clapping, and approached him. The entire room crowded around him, and he stood there, smiling, basking in the attention.
Pol y slowly made her way through the crowd. She could see the adoration of al the other girls, and she stepped up herself and took a look.
He turned and looked at her, fixing his eyes on her. He seemed to look at her with a bit of disdain, with a brazen, arrogant look, as if to say suggest that she should look up to him.
“I…enjoyed your concert,” Pol y said, realizing she was nervous.
“Of course you did,” he said. “Why wouldn’t you?”
The other girls giggled, and Pol y thought his comment was somewhat rude. Stil , she couldn’t bring herself to look away.
“Wel , if you’re just going to stare like that, you might as wel tel me your name,” he said.
Pol y stammered, caught off guard. No one had ever talked to her like that before. Part of her told her she should just walk away; but another part just couldn’t bring herself to.
“Pol y,” she said breathlessly.
“Pol y,” he mimicked back, with a giggle. “Like a bird.”
Pol y reddened, as the other girls giggled. She did not know whether she was in love with this man, or hated him.
How could he be so arrogant?
“Wel , Pol y,” he said, with a faint accent, “I’l have you know my name.”
He slowly held out his hand, which was pale and soft, like a girl’s.
“Sergei,” he announced proudly, as if she should be thril ed to know it.
She took her hand in his, staring, unable to look away.
“Sergei,” she repeated, breathlessly.
And despite herself, despite the fact that he suddenly turned away and talked to the other girls, despite every red flag that screamed for her to walk away, she knew that she was already, hopelessly, in love.
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER NINE
Caitlin woke gently, slowly opening her eyes, feeling completely rested and relaxed. It was the first night in as long as she could remember in which she hadn’t dreamt of her father—in fact, in which she hadn’t dreamt at al . It was also the first time night in as long as she could remember in which she hadn’t been awakened abruptly, when she was able to sleep as long as she would like.
Caitlin woke to sunlight streaming in through the windows on al sides of her, and to the sound, through the open windows, of crashing waves. She could smel the fresh ocean pouring through the room.
She looked over and realized she was sleeping with her head resting on Caleb’s chest. They were both undressed, under the covers, and she was sleeping in his arms.
She looked up, and saw that his eyes were closed, and he was stil fast asleep.
For the first time in as long as she could remember, Caitlin felt completely at ease. Here, in this place, in this time, in Caleb’s arms, she felt that nothing could ever go wrong.
She wanted to freeze the moment, to hold onto it. Final y, it felt like there was nothing threatening on the horizon, nothing looming that could make life change.
Caitlin looked around the room, and glanced at the silver case with her father’s letter inside, stil unopened. As she looked at it, she had a moment of worry: she felt that if she opened it, if she read it, it would lead her somewhere, and things would change. She looked away from it, more determined than ever not to open it.
She got up from bed and walked across the room, her bare feet nice and cool on the stone, and took the bejeweled case, and hid it behind a drape. She didn’t
But even more than that: his voice was mesmerizing. As he sang, Pol y was transfixed. She was completely riveted, helpless to do anything but listen, helpless to look anywhere else.
Pol y was lost in a daze as the singing ended, stil staring, stil hearing his final notes, while everyone else got up, clapping, and approached him. The entire room crowded around him, and he stood there, smiling, basking in the attention.
Pol y slowly made her way through the crowd. She could see the adoration of al the other girls, and she stepped up herself and took a look.
He turned and looked at her, fixing his eyes on her. He seemed to look at her with a bit of disdain, with a brazen, arrogant look, as if to say suggest that she should look up to him.
“I…enjoyed your concert,” Pol y said, realizing she was nervous.
“Of course you did,” he said. “Why wouldn’t you?”
The other girls giggled, and Pol y thought his comment was somewhat rude. Stil , she couldn’t bring herself to look away.
“Wel , if you’re just going to stare like that, you might as wel tel me your name,” he said.
Pol y stammered, caught off guard. No one had ever talked to her like that before. Part of her told her she should just walk away; but another part just couldn’t bring herself to.
“Pol y,” she said breathlessly.
“Pol y,” he mimicked back, with a giggle. “Like a bird.”
Pol y reddened, as the other girls giggled. She did not know whether she was in love with this man, or hated him.
How could he be so arrogant?
“Wel , Pol y,” he said, with a faint accent, “I’l have you know my name.”
He slowly held out his hand, which was pale and soft, like a girl’s.
“Sergei,” he announced proudly, as if she should be thril ed to know it.
She took her hand in his, staring, unable to look away.
“Sergei,” she repeated, breathlessly.
And despite herself, despite the fact that he suddenly turned away and talked to the other girls, despite every red flag that screamed for her to walk away, she knew that she was already, hopelessly, in love.
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER NINE
Caitlin woke gently, slowly opening her eyes, feeling completely rested and relaxed. It was the first night in as long as she could remember in which she hadn’t dreamt of her father—in fact, in which she hadn’t dreamt at al . It was also the first time night in as long as she could remember in which she hadn’t been awakened abruptly, when she was able to sleep as long as she would like.
Caitlin woke to sunlight streaming in through the windows on al sides of her, and to the sound, through the open windows, of crashing waves. She could smel the fresh ocean pouring through the room.
She looked over and realized she was sleeping with her head resting on Caleb’s chest. They were both undressed, under the covers, and she was sleeping in his arms.
She looked up, and saw that his eyes were closed, and he was stil fast asleep.
For the first time in as long as she could remember, Caitlin felt completely at ease. Here, in this place, in this time, in Caleb’s arms, she felt that nothing could ever go wrong.
She wanted to freeze the moment, to hold onto it. Final y, it felt like there was nothing threatening on the horizon, nothing looming that could make life change.
Caitlin looked around the room, and glanced at the silver case with her father’s letter inside, stil unopened. As she looked at it, she had a moment of worry: she felt that if she opened it, if she read it, it would lead her somewhere, and things would change. She looked away from it, more determined than ever not to open it.
She got up from bed and walked across the room, her bare feet nice and cool on the stone, and took the bejeweled case, and hid it behind a drape. She didn’t
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