Chapter 17

The word “prodigy” and the way Agent Aguilera had used it to refer to Mirko fluttered in my mind for a few minutes.

When Sasha fell asleep on my shoulder, a pleasant feeling filled my chest and I settled more comfortably in the chair, trying not to move too much. Listening to her breathe in my ear, feeling her warm, heavy little body snuggled against me in my arms, stirred many things I could not describe, not even with the vast lexicon acquired through years of reading. It felt like a long-awaited break, or an answer I had been looking for for a long time. I was simply filled with peace just hearing the baby sleep. I didn’t feel like taking her upstairs to my bed; I wanted her to take her nap there in the kitchen with me, as if—

As if she were mine.

I wondered whether, with my son, I would have felt this good, this proud. The thought gave me chills. What was happening to me?

My psychologist might have said, “Johanna, you’re projecting. You’re not crazy; you’