Lavayla stared at him for a long second, then nodded slowly. "Yeah. He isn't. Why do you ask?"
Mirek stepped closer, his gaze never leaving the baby. "Where did you find him?" His voice was steady, but there was an unmistakable edge beneath it. "And how?"
Her brows knit together at the question. Instead of answering, she lifted her head and stared at him in doubt. "You answer mine first. Why are you asking?"
For a moment, Mirek said nothing.
Then he drew in a slow breath, exhaled, and spoke carefully—each word measured, as if he needed her to truly understand.
"The baby with you," he said, eyes still fixed on the small face nestled against her chest, "is my nephew."
Lavayla blinked.
"His name is Vai."
Her mouth opened on instinct. "What?" Her gaze dropped to the baby, then flicked back up to Mirek, scanning his face before looking down again—searching, comparing, as if trying to find some resemblance she'd somehow missed.
