DELUSION

Copenhagen, Denmark, June 2019

“How are you today?” my mother asked as she stepped into my hospital room, and right behind her, I noticed Amélie, who looked at me with open sadness.

“The doctors say I’ll live,” I tried to smile, not wanting the little one to be scared. “Come here, sunshine.”

Amélie instantly grinned, letting go of Mom’s hand and running toward me. The bed was too high for her, she was only six, so Mom lifted her up and sat her beside me. At least by now, I’d come to terms with the fact that I had become an older brother at such an age. I had wondered often why my parents had decided on such a late pregnancy. At first, I was furious about it, wandering around with friends till dawn just to avoid hearing the baby’s cries. Her wailing especially drove me mad when I needed to prepare for my exams. Back then, everything around me felt like hell.

But when I entered the academy and began living somewhat independently, I realized how much I missed those tiny hands, even her screams and tears whenever things didn’t go her way. Despite everything — Amélie remained the little angel of our family. Unlike me.

And Grandfather never failed to remind me that at my age, he was already raising my father. Meanwhile, I still hadn’t figured myself out, and he was determined to meet at least one great-grandchild before he left this world. But I wasn’t in a hurry to share anything about my personal life with them — once was enough. They had immediately rejected my last girlfriend. Their paranoia often made my life difficult. One was from the wrong family, another wasn’t pretty enough, and others they all saw as gold diggers. It was exhausting.

Father could barely wait for me to finish the academy so I could take over the family business. But that was exactly where their views diverged. Grandfather was firmly against taking the easy road. He’d built the company brick by brick, he said, and that was why it had succeeded. If everything were handed to me ready-made, he was sure I’d destroy the work of his lifetime without proper experience. A business degree, in his opinion, couldn’t replace years of hard-earned wisdom. And so, arguments between him and my father were constant… That’s why I decided, in my own way, surprising almost everyone.

Now, lying in a hospital bed, I deeply regretted my decision to join the police. My athletic build, unfortunately, hadn’t come with a matching dose of luck. My very first call had ended in a brutal shootout that left my shoulder wounded. Not fatally, but bad enough to give my mother reason to protest my career choice. Fearing to lose her son and «the light of her eyes», as she still called me, she’d joined forces with the others.

“Ivar,” Mom said, in that tone I knew all too well, “maybe you should reconsider your…”

“Mom, please, don’t start again.”

I turned my tired gaze from Amélie, who looked nothing like her. She was a copy of our father: light, curly hair and deep green eyes. Mom and I, on the other hand, were brunettes. My hair had a slight wave to it, while hers was perfectly smooth and shiny. Our eyes were the same dark gray, though when she was angry, which was rare, they turned a chilling color. I never saw my own in such moments, but I could easily imagine how I must have looked to the guys.

“My dear, they almost killed you…” Mom pleaded, sitting down in the chair beside me. She cast a quick glance at my sister, then back at me.

“I’m fine, Mom. The wound will heal, and then it will be clear what I will do next…”

“Ivar, Grandpa and Dad will fight again because of you,” Amélie whispered in my ear, but Mom heard her, frowning.

“Amélie, darling, you shouldn’t eavesdrop on adults. Ladies don’t do that.”

“But they were shouting so loud even Bette could hear them…”

“Still, sunshine, don’t forget who you are. Next time, just cover your little ears, all right?”

“Yes,” the girl muttered with a resigned sigh. Then, leaning closer, she whispered again, “It’s always like that when you’re not home…”

It was hard not to smile, and even Mom couldn’t help it.

“Mom, let’s talk about this later, when I’m discharged and have time to think.”

My mother wanted to add something, but I interrupted her right away.

“Myself. I’ll decide it on my own. Please understand, this matters to me. I don’t want to be treated like your spoiled child forever… I’ve grown up, Mom. And I would like to make my own choices.”

She nodded in compromise. It seemed, we all felt a bit of relief. Especially me, since I had Amélie on my side. It didn’t matter that she was little, because she had a talent to manipulate adults when it suited her. Which meant, sometimes, she could help me too. And just like that, I found another advantage in a late pregnancy.