things are. In a child’s world, it’s all about them: how this affects me, how this makes me feel, why is life so unfair? An adult sees a problem and tries to fix it. They think of other people and they plan their actions aware of the consequences. They understand that there will be time to deal with grief and loss after the danger is over.”
“So how do I fix this?” Ragnar asked, his face grim.
“Survive,” Alessandro said. “The enemy is trying to kill you and your sister. If you live, you win.”
Ragnar shook his head. “That’s not enough.”
“It’s plenty for now,” I told him.
“What do you want to do?” Alessandro leaned closer to the boy. “Do you want to go over and kill the people who murdered your mother?”
“Yes!”
“You can’t. Not yet. You’d die and they would win. That’s also part of adulthood—adults understand their limitations.”
“I did fine,” Ragnar squeezed through clenched teeth.
Alessandro looked at the bodies. “Their faces tell me that your sister is too caught up in making her enemies suffer. And that trail of vomit over there tells me you hesitated. You made them sick first. Was it hard to kill them?”
A tear swelled in Ragnar’s left eye. He swiped at it, his face a rigid mask.
“Don’t be ashamed,” Alessandro told him. “That’s good. That’s what separates us from them. It should be hard. Killing another human being is the hardest thing you will ever do. But to fight in this war, your kills must be instantaneous. Any hesitation gives your enemy an opening to end you. You die, they win. Acknowledge to yourself that you hesitate. Don’t engage unless you must. Remember your job. You must live through this.”
“To do what?” Ragnar stared at the corpses.
“To train and practice to make sure that the next time someone comes for your family, you will be ready. Your sisters will need you.”
Ragnar jumped off the table and went inside.
“Harsh,” I told him.
“That’s what he needs right now. Trust me,” Alessandro said. “If he has a goal, it will keep him looking forward. Thinking about what already happened and what he could’ve done about it will just drive him mad.”
He got up and walked away. I took in the street full of corpses one last time and went into the warehouse, to the warm light and sounds of my family.
It took us half an hour to settle Runa down. In the end, Mom gave her a sleeping pill. Runa took it with her tea and then fell asleep at the kitchen table. Bern carried her to her room. Leon took Ragnar and two beers to the Hut of Evil to check out his gaming setup. I hadn’t seen Heart. He was definitely around, supervising, examining the lay of the land, and giving orders, and Mom had spoken to him. I would see him tomorrow. The last thing he needed right now was me underfoot.
Shadow had acted like I was gone for a century. She stood on her hind legs and scratched at my thigh. She made small, happy doggy noises and wagged her tail so much, it was a wonder it didn’t break off. She also trailed me wherever I went. I had gotten Lawrence’s bones out of the car, put them into a plastic bin, and carried the bin into the motor pool, and she’d managed to trip me twice.
Grandma Frida turned at our approach. Her eyes narrowed. “Girl, you’re all beat up.”
I’d counted on everyone being too busy to notice. Leave it to Grandma to zero in on my scratches like a homing missile. “It’s just torn clothes.”
Grandma Frida raised her finger and pointed. “Laceration. Abrasion. Puncture. Several punctures. Chunk of hair missing.”
I dropped the bin and grabbed my hair. “Where?”
Grandma reached out and touched the left side of my head. “Right there. You’re bleeding and you look like you’ve gone through a shredder.” She wrinkled her nose and sniffed. “And you stink like accelerant and smoke. Has your mother seen you?”
“Mom has her hands full. I’ll just take a shower . . .”
“Take off that rag and sit.” Grandma Frida pointed to a stool.
I dropped the torn trench coat to the floor and sat. Grandma Frida took one look at me and reached for the first aid kit.
There were times in life when alcohol really hurt.
“Actually, it’s been proven—ow—that treating wounds with—ow—rubbing alcohol slows the healing. A saline wash is so much better. Ow, ow, ow!”
“Saline wash is for your eyes. Alcohol is for getting