Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
James is fast, though. He’s parting the crowd, eyes like a hawk searching every inch, and then he suddenly starts running off the ship.
Oh my god. Oh my god, Bjorn has been taken. Someone took him, stole him. I’ll never see him again. I’m responsible.
Now I’m crying along with Tor. I can’t help it.
I watch as James runs along the edge of the third floor, away from the exit, and that’s when I see him.
Bjorn.
He’s attempting to climb on top of the taxidermy polar bears that are posed at the end of the museum, on a ledge a few feet off the ground. James appears just in time, snatching Bjorn up before he reaches for the bear to pull himself up. Had Bjorn actually climbed up, the chances of him falling would have been high.
I breathe out the biggest sigh of relief, but my heart is still thundering in my chest and I feel sick.
I manage to work my way through the tourists—no one paying me much attention, thank god—and reach James, who has Bjorn in his arms…Bjorn, who is kicking and screaming and calling so much attention to himself. That’s when I notice a few people taking pictures or video, and I am so scared that someone actually got a photo of Bjorn climbing up on the polar bear. Oh my god, I’m going to get fired.
“I think it’s time to go,” James says.
I don’t even feel disappointed about not seeing much of the museum. We need to go right away, get far from prying eyes, and figure out what the hell happened.
I nod, and James doesn’t let go of Bjorn or pass him to me. He just carries him out while pulling his phone out of his pocket and calling Ottar.
“He’ll be right here,” he tells me as we step outside the building.
It’s starting to snow lightly, but I don’t want to wait inside for the car. I know that people are starting to talk, and soon they’ll start hounding us for pictures and the paparazzi will arrive.
I must be going into dissociative shock because James says gently, “Hey. It’s okay.”
I blink at him just as the car pulls up.
“What happened?” Ottar asks, coming around and looking concerned and out of breath. “You sounded serious.”
“I wanted to see the bears!” Bjorn yells through angry tears as we shuffle him into the car. “They wouldn’t let me, so I went on my own!”
Ottar gives us a look like, Oh boy.
That’s an understatement.
• • •
When we get back to the estate, we have to explain the whole thing to Magnus and Ella. We all sit down in the living room, and James takes the lead. I’m so grateful for that; all I can do is feel awful inside, shrinking smaller and smaller inside myself, wringing my hands together.
“So how did this happen?” Magnus says, looking strikingly serious.
Not that I blame him. I can’t imagine how it must feel for him and Ella to think that their child could end up the subject of tabloid news.
“I messed up,” James says.
“No,” I interject. “You didn’t. I messed up.”
“Laila,” he warns. “I’m the PPO. My job is to have eyes on the boys at all times.” He looks at Magnus. “Please forgive me. I didn’t happen to have my eyes on him in that moment. I won’t make any excuses.”
“I will!” I say, looking at Magnus and Ella imploringly. “My head…I’ve been so out of it with this brain fog, and Bjorn…he really wanted to see the polar bears, but Tor didn’t want to, so I wanted him to compromise by getting us to go on the deck of the ship. We sat down to watch the screens, but Bjorn was so restless, he couldn’t sit still. Then the storm part came and Tor got scared, just as all these tourists came from out of nowhere, crowding around us. I guess I was caught up in calming Tor—when I looked up, Bjorn was gone.”
“I should have been watching him,” James says with his chin raised. “It’s on me. I was scanning the tourists for a threat instead.”
“Which is your job, you know,” Magnus says. “Your job is to protect Ella, Laila, and the boys. Not to watch them. It’s not your job; that’s Laila’s job.”
Oh fuck.
“And, Laila,” Magnus says, his eyes kind, voice becoming gentler. “I know you. I know you love these boys, and I know they are hard to handle. Very hard sometimes. Mistakes happen. Don’t beat yourself up over it. The issue isn’t so much that you weren’t paying full attention, and in your current state I can’t blame you at all. It’s that…” He sighs, running his hand over his face and looking to Bjorn. “Bjornsy. Why did you do that?”
“I wanted to see the bears,” he says, crossing his arms in a huff.