116

Camila

He leaps across the room, his reflection copying him in the floor to ceiling mirrors. One spin, a second and a third, before he bends forward, arms stretching long enough they give him the illusion of being taller than he is.

When he finishes his last pirouette, Roman faces me with his eyes ablaze. Some of his dark hair is stuck to his forehead.

I clap enthusiastically. "That was wonderful, Roman!"

His smile deepens his dimples. There's pride on his face, but his voice still has the fragility of an unsure child. "Thanks. But I keep messing up on the pivot."

"You'll get it, just keeping trying."

Cocking his head, he frowns to himself. Looking in the mirror he does a few quick half-bends, like he's testing my theory. "You're sure that's enough?"

Putting my hands on his shoulders from behind, I study our reflections. Roman has changed in a short amount of time. It began the night he was forced to witness his father's death. The kindness that was always in his heart has crawled ful