He glances to the side and gives me a shy smile.

Then he keeps playing. And strange as it may seem, I keep watching. Until the last note uses up what’s left of its voice and fades away into the silence.

When he finishes, he turns on the bench to face me. He looks at me eagerly, as though he’s waiting for a compliment.

“You look beautiful,” he says finally when I don’t offer anything up.

I frown. My mouth is dry and my eye sockets feel like they’re stuffed full of cotton. “My head hurts.”

“I’m sorry for that,” he says. “It’ll subside in a bit. The gas affects some people strongly.”

“Where is Geneva? And Sara?” I croak through a sandpaper throat. I cast around to check the corners, but we’re the only two in this room.

“Both safe,” he assures me. “Don’t worry.”

“I do worry,” I snap. “Where’s Kolya?”

He looks amused by the question. “How should I know? Contrary to popular opinion, I don’t follow my brother around.”

I pat my pocket for my phone, but it’s empty. The last thing I remember is pressing send on my text.

I hope it went through.

I pray it did.

“Is he out there looking for me?” Adrian asks. “Hope he doesn’t look too hard.” He cackles and slaps his knee like he’s told a hilarious joke.

I feel nauseous.

“What have you done, Adrian?” I whisper.

He shrugs his broad shoulders in a gesture that looks perversely like his brother. It makes me want to cringe, that I could find anything remotely similar about them now.

Adrian senses my disgust. “What’s the matter, Junepenny?” he asks. “Can’t look me in the eye anymore?”

“I know too much about you now.”

There can be no mistaking the disappointment in my voice. Of course, Adrian doesn’t miss it. I can see it in the way his entire face seems to pull together, making his eyes turn dark and his forehead crease with anger. He stands up and takes a step towards the bed.

I immediately push myself away from him, though there isn’t far to go on this skinny little mattress. He freezes in place, the muscles in his jaw churning hard.

“We can still make a go of this, June,” he says. “We can still be a family.”

“We were never a family to begin with, Adrian. You were just using me.”

He narrows his eyes. “I fucking loved you.”

“No,” I fire back, “you didn’t love me. I was a crutch. A security blanket. And if there was ever a time where I needed something from you in return—well, those were the times you swung your fists, weren’t they?” I touch my cheek where the memory of the night he cut me open still stings.

“Jesus,” he mutters. “They’ve well and truly turned you, haven’t they?”

“You killed Milana,” I say softly. “You murdered her, Adrian.”

“It… it had to be done.” His jaw hardens and I wonder for a moment if he regrets it. Then he shakes his head and any trace of vulnerability disappears. “You wouldn’t get it. Too fucking naive. You were always too fucking naive.”