Chapter 57: Where is he? (cont.)

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Metion

"He's so perfect," she stared down at the sleeping child. Big dark eyelashes delicately brushing his smooth brown skin. I don't know what I expected. But he was a carbon copy of his mother.

"You don't know that yet. You haven't met him," I said, humoring her, "Come to bed, while he sleeps."

"I do know that. I can tell, look at him, he's perfect," she said, smiling down at her baby. She was so pleased with him. Pleased when she fell pregnant. Pleased with her round belly, even though it made her sick and tired. Always so happy. Happy for the little mewling creature that woke us at all hours.

"Come to bed," I said, again.

"You have to promise me you'll take care of him," she said, stroking the baby gently.

"I think he'd prefer if you did," I said, dryly. The child had refused to let me hold him, wanting only his mother. Little interloper, quite monopolizing her attentions.

"No, when he gets big, boys need their fathers to look after them. He's going to need you. You have to promise me you'll take care of him," she said, very seriously then.

"Of course," I said, bemused. I didn't know why it was so important to her then. As it turned out she had precious few years with her perfect child.

"Here that, Viktor? Your daddy will look after you," she said, kissing his forehead.

"You're going to wake him, then you'll be sorry," I scoffed, standing since she wasn't coming to bed.

"I'd love it if he woke up; we could cuddle more," she said, besotted with the infant. I took her in my arms gently.

"Come on to bed, before he wakes. You need your rest, and so does he."

"I miss his sweet eyes when he's asleep. Aren't they precious?"

"You think everything about him is precious."

She did. She thought he was wonderful. 

And he is. 

And now he's gone from me.

"You didn't take him did you?" I ask the darkness as I walk the empty halls. Guards passed out—drunk? What is going on here?

"Tell me you didn't take him," I whisper. No reply. The shade isn't here. If it ever was. 

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