Novels by Charis

0080~Aria~“You,” I said.He stared at me with the same expression I knew was on my face. That blank, suspended kind of shock that comes from running into someone who belongs to a completely different chapter of your life, in a place where that chapter should not exist.Then he smiled.That smile. I would have recognized it anywhere. Slow, slightly crooked, like he found the universe quietly amusing and had decided to enjoy it instead of questioning it.“Aria Santoro,” he said. “In Paris.”“Théo Marchand,” I replied. “Of course.”Josie appeared beside me, her eyes moving between us. “Do you know this person?”“Unfortunately,” I said.Théo placed a hand over his chest. “Unfortunately. After everything.”“After everything is exactly why.”He laughed. He had always laughed easily. That was one of the defining things about Théo Marchand. He laughed at things that deserved it and things that didn’t, and he never seemed particularly concerned about the difference.“Josie,” I said, “this is

0079~Luca~I looked at my daughter.She was watching me with those eyes, waiting, curious, the natural follow-up question sitting right there on her face because that's how Isabella works. She asks something and then she waits for the actual answer rather than filling the space herself.Fear gripped me."Aria," I said."Mm. With nice hair. She laughed a lot." She paused. "Do you know her?"I kept my expression easy. "It's not an uncommon name, princess.""No but…” "There are probably quite a few Arias in Paris." I kept my voice light. "Did she say where she was from?"Isabella thought about it. "No. We talked about the maze mostly. And Sofia." She looked at the doll. "And her friend was funny.""Sounds like a good afternoon."She studied me for one more second with that particular look she gets when she suspects she's not getting the complete picture but doesn't have enough evidence to press the point. Then she accepted it and moved on in the way that children do when they've made

0078~Luca~Isabella was at the window when I pulled up.Small face against the glass, Sofia propped beside her. The moment she spotted the car she disappeared and the front door was already opening by the time I reached it."You came," she said."I said I would.""I know." She stepped back to let me in. "I always feel better when you actually do."That landed somewhere it wasn't supposed to and I filed it carefully, the way I file the things Isabella says that I don't have an immediate answer for.Adele was in the kitchen. She looked up and gave me the look she sometimes gives me, warm on the surface, something sitting underneath it. Something held."She's better," she said before I asked. "Much better today. She's been bright all morning." A pause. "She has things to tell you. She's been saving them.""Things," I said. "Plural.""She'll tell you in order." Adele turned back to the counter. "She has an order."Isabella had already taken my hand.We sat in the small sitting room, her

0077~Aria~"Familiar how?" I said.Josie was still looking at Isabella across the park, the expression on her face doing that thing it does when she's processing something. "I don't know exactly. She just reminds me of someone.""She's six," I said. "She reminds you of every child you've ever found endearing.""Maybe." She didn't sound convinced. "It's the eyes."Isabella came running back before either of us could follow the thought further, full of news about the ride and a request for the doll back and a declaration that Sofia had missed her. I handed Sofia over and the reunion was treated with appropriate gravity.Adele started gathering their things with the practiced efficiency of someone who had been signaling departure for twenty minutes and was finally making it happen.Isabella looked at me."Are you going?" she said."We should head back soon," I said. "But it was really lovely meeting you, Isabella."She considered something for a moment. "Will I see you again?"I looked

0076~Aria~A little girl.She was small, maybe six or seven, with dark hair that had come loose from whatever it had started the day in and enormous dark eyes looking up at me with the particular directness that some children have before the world teaches them that staring is impolite. She was wearing a yellow jacket with a small embroidered flower on the pocket and she was holding a red-haired doll against her chest with her free hand while the other was still loosely holding my sleeve.She looked at me. I looked at her."Hello," I said."Hi." She released my sleeve. Matter of fact. Like she had required my attention, gotten it, and we could now proceed. "You have nice hair.""Thank you." I crouched down to her level. "You have nice hair too."She considered this assessment of her somewhat disordered situation. "Mine got messy," she said."Mine does that too," I said. "Where's your…”I looked up, scanning the immediate area for a parent, a carer, someone who belonged to this child. T

0075~Aria~My phone rang at eight thirty.I was somewhere between asleep and awake, the comfortable middle ground that weekend mornings offer when nothing is scheduled before ten, and I reached for it with my eyes still mostly closed.Josie.I frowned at the screen. Josie did not call before noon on weekends unless something had happened. I sat up and answered."What's wrong?" I said."Nothing's wrong." Her voice was bright in the specific way it gets when she is containing something. "Good morning, Aria.""It's eight thirty.""I know what time it is.""Then why are you calling me?”"I need you to do something for me," she said. "I need you to come outside."I looked at my room around me. Curtains, morning light at the edges, the familiar quiet of the estate. "Outside where?""Outside your room." A pause. "Come on."I stared at the phone. "Josie, what….”"Aria. Get up and come outside your room."I put two and two together somewhere between standing up and reaching the door, the spec