“What do you think?”
Talia hands me a catalog, gesturing to a photo of a crib inside.
I offer her a gentle smile. “It looks like it would match the theme.”
She nods and closes the catalog with a sigh. “I don’t know what I’m doing, honestly. There are so many decisions to make, and just so much stuff. I don’t know what’s necessary and what’s not, and I have no idea if any of it’s safe. I think I’m going to be a terrible mother.”
“You aren’t going to be a terrible mother. You’ll learn as you go. That’s what mothers do.”
She shrugs. “I guess so.”
“You’re excited, aren’t you?”
She taps her fingers on the sofa next to her. “I never thought I wanted to be a mother. I’m anxious, and I don’t know if that makes me an awful person.”
“It doesn’t.”
I know this isn’t easy for her. This culture is entirely new to her. But even for a veteran like me, it never gets any easier.
“Are you okay?” Talia asks.
I blink at her and nod automatically. I wasn’t prepared for the question. We’ve been spending time together over the past two weeks, but we aren’t at the stage that I’d consider divulging all my secrets. I’ve never had a friend before, and I hardly know what’s appropriate.
“You seem different.” Her voice is quiet, and I can tell this is foreign territory for her too. She’s spent the past year of her life fighting for survival, and I’m sure it hasn’t been an easy transition into her new life.
“I think I’m tired,” I say.
In truth, it isn’t just exhaustion. I’m one foot in the grave already. When I look in the mirror, I see a haunting reflection so reminiscent of my mother that it terrifies me. It’s been two weeks since Nikolai’s outburst, and if I were holding my breath waiting for an apology, I’d have starved of oxygen by now. As far as I can tell, he’s only been home in the late hours, and he’s made it a point to avoid me.
He might be fine, but I’m not. Inside, I’m withering. A slow death is torture, and I can feel it happening. Every night, I replay his words. I can’t forget them. And I can’t go on living like this.
I won’t become my mother.
Mischa was right, and I should have listened to him long ago. If I don’t get out now, I’m doomed to repeat history.
What Talia doesn’t know is that these visits with her will be the only thing that saves my life. Today will be the last time I see her, and it isn’t fair. I don’t want to abandon her to this world without a friend, but I have no choice.
The truth aches to spill from my lips. She deserves that much. But I’m not naïve enough to believe that our every move isn’t being recorded. Talia was quick to point it out on our first visit. I think the cameras bother her, but I also think she was trying to warn me not to speak out of turn. Our friendship can only be as deep as the words we’re able to admit out loud.
“Solnyshko.” Alexei enters the room, hand delivering some tea to his wife. “Magda sent this for you.”
“Thank you.” She smiles at him, and her love for him is not false. She does care for him. She sees him as her savior. And as happy as I am for her, it hurts me too.
“How is Nika treating you?” Alexei turns to me, his blue eyes roaming over my face with obvious concern.
Part of me feels like I could be honest with him. I could tell him the truth, and he would not hold it against me or betray me. But it would be a betrayal to Nikolai, considering how strained relations already are with his brother. As awful as he was to me, I can’t bring myself to do that to him.
So, I smile and provide a default answer. “He’s keeping busy. Honestly, I’ve barely seen him in weeks. But all is well.”
Alexei does not look as if he believes me, but Talia saves me from further inquiries by interrupting.
“Tanaka is very tired. Would you mind getting the car?”
“Of course.” He nods. “I’ll walk her out.”
We all rise, and Talia and I exchange hugs. She doesn’t like them, but I think somehow she senses the dark clouds looming over us. When I hug her for a second longer than necessary, she doesn’t let go either. I thank her for the visit, and she urges me to return next week if I’m able.
“The car is ready,” Alexei informs me as he pockets his phone.
He follows me from the room and walks me downstairs as promised. When we reach the front door, he pauses.
“I know that Nikolai can be difficult. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to ask. You are my wife’s friend now, and there is always a safe place for you here.”
My throat burns as I thank him. It’s a nice offer, but the truth is, there is no safe place for me in this world.
Franco is waiting outside as promised, but I falter when I see Mischa standing there. I haven’t seen him since the Christmas party, and he isn’t supposed to be here now.
“What are you doing?” I ask.
He opens the door and gestures for me to get inside. I look at Franco. He is the one who drives me home, but today, he simply nods and walks back into the house.
“Just get in,” Mischa says.
I hesitate for only a second before I read the urgency in his eyes. He isn’t supposed to be here, but whatever’s happening, I trust him. I get into the car and put my seat belt on while he walks around to the driver’s side. He starts the ignition, and the car rolls down the winding drive of Alexei’s private estate.
I’m waiting for him to tell me what’s going on, but he doesn’t. His knuckles are white against the steering wheel, and his entire body is rigid.
“Mischa?”
He glances at me across the car, and if I didn’t know any better, I’d think he hates me a little right now.
“I shouldn’t be doing this,” he says.
“Why did you pick me up?”
“Nikolai doesn’t know I’m here,” he admits. “If he finds out, he’ll kill me. You’ve got one chance, Nakya. Just this one. If you don’t get out today, then you’ve signed your own death certificate. Do you understand?”
It almost seems too easy, considering the painstaking amount of time I’ve invested in planning my own escape. Franco was supposed to drive me today. I would have asked him to stop at the gas station, insisting I had to use the bathroom. Franco has always accommodated my requests, and I knew this time would be no different. But I wasn’t going to use the bathroom. I was going to run.
That was the extent of my plan. There wasn’t really any follow-through because I had none. I only knew I had to get out. But now Mischa is offering me an escape on a silver platter, and I’m still trying to discern if he’s really as trustworthy as I thought.
“You have no choice,” he says, reading my mind. “I’m the only option you’ve got.”
“Why are you doing it?”
“Because it will destroy Nikolai if anything happens to you because of him.”
I don’t believe that, but there’s no point in arguing. My focus is on the future. My focus is on escaping.
“How are we going to do this?” I ask.
“There’s a bag in the trunk.” He tips his head back. “Some food, money, and a coat. I’m going to stop in Pittsfield and drop you off at the bus depot. You buy a ticket. Whatever the first bus is, I don’t care, you get on it. And then you keep getting on buses or trains to get wherever the fuck you want to go, preferably on the opposite side of the country.”
“That’s it?”
He glares at me. “What the fuck more do you want? I’m not a travel agent.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I’m just … I’m freaking out.”
“Just be smart,” he says. “Once you’re off the East Coast, you’ll be doing all right.”
I wish I had as much confidence, but I just nod.
The drive is tense and quiet. And when Mischa pulls to a stop at a curb, I genuinely don’t think I can do this. I’ve never gone anywhere by myself. I don’t even know how to buy a bus ticket or figure out the schedules or pick a place to go.
“Nakya.” Mischa shakes me from my thoughts. “The bus depot is just up the street on the left. I can’t drop you any closer. You have to go now.”
He pops the trunk and leaves the car running. This is it. He’s not getting out, and I’m on my own from here. I know how much he’s risking by doing this for me. He’s already done enough, and my panic isn’t the way to repay him.
I unbuckle and get out of the car, pausing to look at him one more time. “Thank you, Mischa.”
He swallows and nods. “Don’t forget your bag.”
I shut the door and grab the backpack from the trunk. Mischa is gone in a blink, and I’m left standing on the curb, feeling as lost as I’ve ever been.
I glance up the street. The bus depot isn’t far, but I need to get to the crosswalk. It’s a busy intersection, and the middle of the day, so traffic is thick. Attempting to blend in, I join the other pedestrians waiting to cross. My heart is racing, but I try to make it look like I do this all the time.
The light turns, and I move with the crowd. So far, so good. On the other side of the street, we disperse. I’m in the clear, but I feel more vulnerable walking down the street alone. The traffic is at a standstill, so I keep my head down and try to avoid attention as I pass the cars.
It feels like an eternity until I make it to the oddly shaped building, even though it’s only a short distance. I’m almost to the glass door when an eerie feeling creeps over my skin. Something prompts me to look up, and when I do, my heart stops.
There’s a blue sports car idling in the street, waiting for the light change up ahead. And it isn’t so much the car, but the face behind the wheel that I recognize. I saw him at the Christmas party, and I remember him because he was one of the men ogling me at the door. He does a double take, and I know that he’s seen me too. The tattoos peeking out above his shirt collar only confirm my fears. He’s a Vor.
I duck my head and dart inside the building, walking as fast as I can. Every few feet, I pause to look over my shoulder. He isn’t there. But he saw me, and I’m certain he recognized me. Didn’t he?
I don’t know what to do. It was always going to be a risk in any of these small towns. The Berkshires are crawling with Vory, and I should have known better. I should have walked faster. There were a lot of things I wished I’d done differently, but right now, I’m at a loss.
Adrenaline, not reason, has me walking to the ticket counter and glancing up at the bus schedules. It’s late in the afternoon, and there aren’t many left for the day, but I need to choose. The decision is suffocating, so I pick the first one that I see. There’s a bus going to Boston and it’s leaving in thirty minutes. From there, I can get another.
I get in line to purchase my ticket, clutching the straps of my bag in my hands. Every few seconds, I look around, and I’m certain it’s probably only drawing more attention. I try to calm my nerves, waiting thirty seconds between passes. The people in front of me are taking forever.
Another glance out the window. It’s quick, and I think I’m all right. But then I see him. He’s on his phone, and he’s got his hand up to the glass, his eyes squinting as he searches the faces in the crowd.
I’m screwed.
I’m so screwed.
I exit the line and force myself to walk normally to the opposite side of the station, moving with the flow of other travelers and praying he doesn’t see me.
I need to get out of here, so I take the first exit I can find. Back on the sidewalk, I walk in the direction that I came from, making a right onto the first available cross street. I need to stay calm. Running will only draw attention, so I walk. And as I do, I retrieve the coat Mischa packed for me, shrugging it on and rearranging my backpack.
I don’t know where I’m going. There are businesses along the way. Shopping marts, coffee houses, and even a medical center. But none of them feel safe. I need to get somewhere I can hide. And after fifteen minutes, I finally do.
It’s a baseball park, and it’s walled by trees. Enough that I can disappear and catch my bearings while I figure out another plan. The grass is cold and hard beneath my feet, but now that I’m off the main street, I decide to run. My ankle hurts with every jarring impact, and I worry that I might trip, but I also worry that if I don’t run, I won’t get there at all.
Behind the field, I find a heavy and full cluster of trees. It’s the best cover I could hope for right now, so I pick the thickest one I can find. Flattening my body against the ground, I army crawl beneath it. It isn’t the least bit comfortable, and one thing is apparent now that I’ve executed my plan. Even if I do manage to go undiscovered, I won’t survive the elements for long with the clothes I have on. My only hope is that I will be able to move from this area before dawn. I’ll return to one of the shops I passed along the way and buy some different clothes, and then I’ll go back to the station and take the first bus out of here.
But first, I have to survive the night. And with every passing second, a new doubt fills my head. It isn’t baseball season, but the park still hosts the occasional dog and their owner. Every set of footsteps makes my breath stop. It goes on as the hours pass, and eventually, darkness sets in.
I rest my eyes and wonder what’s happening back at Nikolai’s estate. He would know that I haven’t returned by now, and he would have contacted Alexei. It occurs to me that his brother must have known about this. Franco just let me go with Mischa without a second thought. They must have had some sort of plan for what they would tell Nikolai. He expected Franco to drive me home, so I assume they will say that I managed to escape from the car, much like I’d planned to. Nikolai will be none the wiser that his best friend helped me, and Alexei and his guard will receive the blame.
It’s the best possible scenario for all of us. Nikolai can return to his life, and hopefully find peace without me. But I just have to force myself not to think about who that life will include.
It’s for the best.
At some point, I fall asleep. I realize it when I’m startled awake by another sound of footsteps. Too late to be a dog walker, I think. It’s dark, and it’s blistering cold. My entire body feels like it’s frozen, and it’s only going to get worse.
I wait for the person to disappear like all the others, but they don’t. The footsteps are getting closer. So close, that on one occasion, I can see shoes from beneath the tree. I hold my breath, dead certain I’m caught when a flashlight sweeps through the brush.
A voice calls out to someone else in Russian, and I swallow. They’ve traced my steps, and this is the most logical conclusion. I have no connections, no car, no idea what to do. So where else would I go?
I wait for the guard to say he’s found me. It’s the longest minute of my life that he stands there, discussing what they should do. But through it all, it becomes clear he has no idea I’m here. And for now, I’m safe.
I still don’t take a full breath until he moves again, and then I gulp the cool air in by the mouthful. Their footsteps grow distant, and eventually, they disappear.
Cold seeps into my bones, and I’m too afraid to move my limbs, even after it has gone quiet. I wait for them to come back. And then I wait some more. For what I would guess to be two hours, I lie as still as I can. Until I know that I have no choice.
It’s now or never.
I have to move. I have to get to safety. I need a warm space, a phone, and every prayer in the world.
The lights in the distance feel close, but I know they are far away. This town is probably crawling with Nikolai’s men by now. My only hope is to find a nice hotel where I can hide in the bathroom for the night. At least I’ll be safe from the elements there.
But my nerves are shot, and my limbs are stiff as I travel through the park. I think I hear a twig snap behind me, and I freeze. Three seconds pass, and then four more. I want to believe it’s my imagination. I want to believe I haven’t made it this far in vain.
I forge on, and there isn’t another sound. Not a single one. But the things that go bump in the night are not the most dangerous predators. It’s the ones who are silent. It’s the thieves who come to steal you away without warning.
And there is no thief more skilled than Nikolai Kozlov.
I understand that when he cages me in his arms, his breath hot in my ear.
“And just where do you think you’re going, pet?”