“There was a fire in one of the warehouses. I have to go.” He kisses the top of my head and stands up. “I’ll call Denis to pick you up and take you home.”
“Message me so I know you are okay. Please.”
“I will.” The look he gives me is part surprise and part satisfaction, and then he’s gone.
* * *
It’s close to three in the morning when Mikhail comes back. I jump from the couch the moment I hear the door open and, clutching the blanket around me, rush to him. He’s covered in soot, black splotches all over his hands and face, but he looks unharmed.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?”
“I was worried.”
“Lena?”
“Asleep. We had pancakes for dinner again.” I sign and start unbuttoning his shirt. The sleeve is torn in one place, but when I inspect his upper arm, I don’t find any injury.
“T
