Page 135 of Playing Her Game

The humor fades a little, though neither of them looks away.

“We wanted to talk,” Lenzin says. “It's been a while since the hospital.”

“Yeah.” I set my mug down. “It has.”

I remember the hospital clearly. I remember how frightened I'd been for Anna, how little I cared about anything except seeing her, not even the two of them, when I demanded a ride with them to the hospital. I glance at Deacon, who was the one who insisted they let me in the vehicle.

He gives me a nod; I return it.

“She’s like a sister to us,” Aleks says.

“I’m very glad she has had the two of you through her life.”

“She told us you went to Germany,” Lenzin states.

“Couldn't let her forget about me.” I admit. “Had to see for myself that the feelings I had were still there after.” I stop.

“The fuck fest in Chicago?” Aleks’s girl, Sofie, asks.

I mask all emotions or reactions, but Gabe sure didn't.

“Should have seen how pissed he was when I snuck her into a game, wearing my jersey.”

“Still am.” I glare at him.

All the girls laugh, and all I can think is cluck, cluck, cluck… which makes me laugh too.

“You met my grandmother,” Lenzin states.

“She’s amazing.” I nod. “Truly.”

“She is.” He says fondly.

“You get that asshole Matthias too,” Aleks snarls.

I shake my head. “Yes, and her parents.”

That’s when I hear a gasp and look up and forget how to breathe.

Anna stands in the doorway, her hair loose around her shoulders, wearing soft clothes and a crooked cardboard crown. She looks as if she's only just woken up, and for a second I can't make my mind accept what my eyes are telling me.

Anna is in Germany.

Anna is supposed to be in Germany.

She looks at me, and her expression changes just as quickly as mine must have. “Daniil?”

“Sandy?” Comes from Dash Sterling and the whole room laughs. Must be a joke, but I do not get it, nor do I care to.

I cross the kitchen in three strides and stop in front of her, still trying to understand how she's standing here. I haven't seen her in person since February nineteenth. I've missed her in ways I haven't been able to explain over a phone, and now she's here, in Brooklyn, wearing a cardboard crown.

“What are you doing here?”

“Surprising you.”

“You flew to New York?”

“Last night.”