“No. Other than my sister and Massimo, our stepbrother, everyone believes she’s Batista’s.”
“Why?”
“Because it was safer that way.”
He bends his head, focusing on his clasped hands between his wide-spread knees.
“I need to check your wound,” I say.
“It’s fine.”
“I still need to check it.” My shoulder brushes his arm as I stand up, and a shiver runs through me from that incidental touch. “I’ll go get my first aid kit.”
The medical supplies box is in the kitchen, and as I round the breakfast bar to retrieve it, laughter rings out in the bathroom. It tugs on my heart, making me smile. I can picture Zara getting fully drenched while giving Lucia a bath.
When I go back into my bedroom, Kai is by the nightstand, looking at the picture frames lined up on the top.
“Take off your shirt,” I
