The Price of Protection and the Dancer Who Refused to Bend
A fire was crackling in the hearth of a parlor to the right.
“It is beautiful,” I whispered, stepping inside.
“I had Mrs. Patel brought here earlier,” Dante said. “She is waiting in the guest suite upstairs.”
“Thank you,” I said, feeling a massive weight lift from my shoulders.
I walked toward the stairs, ready to put Lily down in a real crib.
Suddenly, a sharp, buzzing sound cut through the quiet house.
It was not my phone.
Dante reached into his pocket and pulled out a sleek, black burner phone.
The screen illuminated his face in a harsh blue glow.
He stared at the flashing numbers, his jaw tightening immediately.
He did not answer it, but his fingers gripped the device tightly.
“Dante?” I asked, stopping on the third step of the staircase.
He looked up at me, his eyes dark with a sudden, tense gravity.
He slowly walked toward the window, looking out into the dark yard.
“Stay here,” Dante said, his voice dropping to a whisper.
He slid the phone into his pocket and walked back toward the heavy front door.