Mikhail’s eyes followed Annabelle as she stepped gingerly out of her room and onto the landing.

She looked pale and her movements unsteady, as if the weight of her thoughts had drained every ounce of energy from her body. 

She had not bothered to tame her hair which was a tousled mess that somehow still managed to look stunning.

It tumbled over her shoulders, catching the faint sunlight filtering through the window. 

She wore a simple sweater and jeans, yet to Mikhail, she looked like she carried the world on her shoulders.

Mikhail tried to keep his gaze straight ahead, but it was nearly impossible not to steal glances at...