<<Natalya>>

*GRANDE ESTATE*

After the maids serve dinner, I sit across from Hermes and watch him cut his steak in silence. He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t speak — just moves the knife and fork with that same calm precision he’s always had.

I can’t tell if he remembers anything. The way he sits there, so composed, it’s impossible to know what’s behind those cold brooding eyes. Does he remember this morning? Does he remember her?

I pray he hasn’t told June about his condition. ...