Page 113 of The Forbidden Center

Colt

Waiting isn’t one of my natural gifts.

Astrid told me to stay downstairs until Tova asked for me, so I stay downstairs. The G-Wagon is parked across from the apartment building with the engine off and my equipment bag still in the back from practice, and my phone is face up in the cup holder.

Nothing.

I pick it up. Still nothing. I put it back.

Then the phone rings. Tova.

I answer too fast. “Hey.”

“You can come up now.”

No hello. No explanation.

“Okay.”

“And don’t bring anything.”

I look at the equipment bag. “I wasn’t planning a dowry.”

“What’s that?”

“Nothing useful. I’m coming up.”

She hangs up.

Astrid opens the door.

The cardboard bridge is on the kitchen table with one side repaired and a pencil lying across the span. Tova is on the couch in socks, with her fingernails bright green, and her schoolbag is on the floor between her feet with both straps still over one shoulder.

She points at the chair across from her.

“You sit there.”

I sit. “This feels official.”

“It is.”

“Mamma says you’re getting married.”

“Yeah.”

“She says you asked first and she said no.”

Astrid closes her eyes.

I nod. “Correct.”

“Then she asked you.”

“Also correct.”

Tova studies me. “That’s embarrassing for you.”

“It was a difficult week.”