Dmitry was relieved when he awoke in his own bed. He surveyed the familiar room with its modest furnishings. Whoever said you couldn’t make a silk purse from a sow’s ear didn’t know Sabina.
She’d transformed their cramped stone house into a cozy nest. If it weren’t for his throbbing ribs and pounding headache, he’d have been comfortable tucked into their soft cotton sheets and warm down duvet. The scent of Sabina’s night cream still lingered on her pillowcase next to him.
His daughter was sitting in a chair next to the bed reading. “Why aren’t you at school, kotyonok?” He tried to sit up. “You don’t want them to take that fancy scholarship away, do you?”
kotyonok?”“Don’t call me kitten.” Lolita glanced up from her book. “I’m not a little girl anymore.”
kitten“Sorry, lyubov moya. Or can
