“Twins,” he breathes as though he’s trying the word on for size. “And they’re both…?”
“Girls,” I confirm. I struggle upright. “Andrey, I know you’re angry—”
“Why do you assume I’m angry?” There’s a flicker of impatience in his voice. “I’m not.”
“Neither one of us was in the right headspace to have any type of serious conversation.” He walks over to the bed and folds back the covers. I’m not going to lie—the gorgeous feather down looks extremely inviting. “And we’re still not. It’s time for you to get some rest.”
I get to my feet. “Not until I see Misha.”
“Jesus Christ, Natalia!” he snarls.
I soften my tone and decide to ask rather than demand. “Please?”
With a tired sigh, he gestures towards the door.
There’s only one light left on in the infirmary. It illuminates Remi, who’s stil
