[ANASTASIA]
“What are you scowling about?” I ask Ivan Jr., once Tatiana exhausts herself completely and falls asleep on my lap. Junior, on the other hand, has been staring at the book in his hands, sitting on the couch across the bed.
He looks up from the book, shaking his head. “Nothing.”
“Are you sure you want to lie to me?” His expression changes. He frowns. “I’m not lying.”
I let out a long sigh and put Tatiana under the covers. She sleeps soundly, not aware of the conversation around her. Good. I don’t want both my children to wear worried faces when their parents are here to handle everything—when I’m here to worry about everything that needs to be worried about.
I leave the bed and sit on the couch next to him. I can sense his gaze on my leg as I limp a little. But, of course,
