Seconds later, the door opens to a waft of fresh air. I inhale, exhale, and smile. “Here we are.” Gavrildoesn’t ask me what we’re doing on the top of an abandoned parking garage. He doesn’t even sayanything. He seems to understand.
One step after the next, like muscle memory, then crouching, sitting down, my legs dangling over theconcrete edge.
“There it is,” I say softly.
Gavril, somehow, is beside me, his legs dangling down over the city too, his arms around me. “Thereit is indeed.”
Ahead of us, the sun basks the city in a final pink-orange hurrah of light. The buildings lookbejeweled. The view is incredible.
We don’t need to say anything more. The rest of it—the best of it—doesn’t need words.
The wind whispering on our cheeks.
The cool concrete b
