Chapter 15: The Unwelcome Return
Leonid stood in the center of the foyer, feeling like an exhibit. The marble under his boots was so polished he could see the blurred reflection of the chandelier above, a constellation of frozen, expensive tears. The air smelled of lemon wood polish and the faint, dry fragrance of calla lilies arranged in a vase taller than Mina. It was a smell that choked out memory, that tried to bleach the scent of antiseptic and honey-roasted peanuts from his skin.
He’d come straight from the hospital, the phantom warmth of Jennie’s cheek against his ribs still blooming under his shirt. He hadn’t changed. He knew Mina would notice, that she’d see the wrinkles, the faint hospital chill clinging to the fabric. He lit a cigarette right there in the foyer, the act a petty rebellion against the pristine order. He blew smoke toward the vaulted ceiling, watching it dissipate in the golden light.
“You know mother will have a fit if she sees ash on the marble.” Mina’s voice was soft, without real reproach. She descended the staircase, her steps soundless on the thick runner. She wore a simple knit dress, the color of cream. She looked like she belonged here, a part of the portrait.
“Let her,” Leonid said, but he tapped the ash into his cupped palm anyway.
Mina stopped before him, searching his face. Her gentle eyes were flecked with worry. “How was she?”
“Restless.” It was the truest thing he could say. He couldn’t tell her about the peanuts, the scenting, the raw, worshipful hunger. That was a country where Mina didn’t have a visa.
“I’m glad they’re letting her come home. She hates that place.” Mina smoothed his collar, a tender, wifely gesture that made his gut clench. “She always does better here. With family.”
Before he could form a reply, the great oak door swung inward. Minho entered first, his overcoat dark and authoritative, his face a mask of weary relief. Min-Ji followed, her heels striking the marble with precise, legal clicks. She carried Jennie’s small discharge bag as if it contained contaminated evidence.
And then, Jennie.
She hovered on the threshold, backlit by the gray afternoon light, a slim silhouette in a simple white shift dress that looked like a hospital smock bleached of color. Her long black hair was loose, clean, flowing over her shoulders like spilled ink. She was barefoot.
For a moment, she didn’t move. Her eyes, wide and adjusting, swept the foyer—the chandelier, the portrait, the flowers—as if cataloging a museum she’d only read about. They passed over her mother, her father, her sister.
They landed on Leonid.
And the world narrowed.
A smile, impossibly bright, broke across her face. It wasn’t the slow, sleepy smile from the cell. This was sunrise. This was triumph.
She moved past her parents as if they were furniture. Her bare feet were silent on the cold stone. She walked with a direct, unhurried grace, her gaze fixed on him, a magnetic pull drawing her across the vast, gleaming floor.
Minho cleared his throat. “Jennie, darling, welcome—”
She didn’t hear him.
Mina took a small, instinctive step closer to Leonid, her shoulder brushing his arm. A protective gesture. A claiming.
Jennie didn’t even glance at her.
She stopped mere inches from him. He could see the fine tremble in her hands, the rapid flutter of a pulse in her slender throat. She smelled of institutional soap and, beneath it, the unique, rain-damp earth scent that was purely her.
“You’re here,” she whispered, her voice a breath of wonder. “I dreamed of this. The marble was colder in the dream.”
Then her arms were around his neck, her body pressing into his with a shocking, total lack of restraint. She was all sharp angles and desperate warmth. She buried her face in the junction of his shoulder, inhaling deeply. “You didn’t wash your shirt,” she murmured against his skin, a secret just for him. “Good.”
The foyer froze.
Leonid’s arms came up around her, automatically, his hands settling on the delicate wings of her shoulder blades. He felt Mina stiffen beside him. He heard Min-Ji’s sharp intake of breath. Over Jennie’s head, he saw Minho’s face harden, his distinguished features turning to stone.
He was holding the wrong sister.
And he couldn’t let go.
Jennie’s whisper was a hot vibration against his ear. “The pictures are very quiet now. All I see is you.” She clung tighter, her fingers tangling in the hair at his nape. A small, desperate sound escaped her—half sob, half sigh. It was the sound of a drowning person breaking the surface.
Mina spoke, her voice thin with confusion. “Jennie… hey. Welcome home.”
Jennie finally shifted, turning her head just enough to rest her cheek on Leonid’s chest, her eyes settling on her sister. There was no malice in her gaze, only a kind of distant, puzzled recognition. “Hello, Mina.” Then she looked back up at Leonid, her world recentered. “I’m tired. Will you take me to my room? The stairs are… loud.”
Minho found his voice, a low rumble of controlled authority. “Leonid. That’s enough.”
But Jennie flinched at the sound, her whole body tensing. A low whine built in her throat. Her eyes locked on Leonid’s, pleading, galaxies of need swirling in their brown depths.
Leonid didn’t look at Minho. He didn’t look at Mina, whose hurt was now a palpable, silent cry in the space between them. He looked only at Jennie, at the fragile universe collapsing and reforming in her eyes. He brushed a strand of hair from her forehead, his touch gentle.
“Yeah,” he said, his deep voice soft, meant only for her. “I’ve got you.”
He bent, sliding one arm behind her knees, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. She was feather-light, all bird-like bones and silk. She immediately curled into him, her head finding the hollow of his shoulder, her face pressed once more into his shirt. A shudder of perfect contentment went through her.
He turned, carrying her toward the grand, serpentine staircase, feeling the weight of three other stares boring into his back—Minho’s fury, Min-Ji’s dawning horror, Mina’s shattered comprehension. Each step upward was a step away from a life that made sense, into the quiet, twisted sanctuary of Jennie’s world. Her breath warmed his skin through the cotton. He could feel her smile.
“I knew you’d choose,” she whispered, her words a secret spell. “I knew it when you fed me the peanuts.”
Below, in the gleaming foyer, Mina took a step forward, her hand outstretched toward the empty space where her boyfriend had been standing. Her fingers closed on air.