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"Chyort," he hisses, crushing his phone in his fist. He arches his arm like he plans to throw it. At the last second he stops himself.
Bad news? I wonder... and hope.
Ruslan lets out a wretched sob. His voice is raw from crying so much. "I'm sorry... I'm sorry... I didn’t mean to... please."
"Enough!" Yevgeniy whirls on us. My mother retreats into the corner, trying to hide behind a curtain of her own hair. I don't blame her for being afraid. It's not her job to stand up to this man.
But someone has to.
"Stop it!" I snap. "You did this to him."
"Did what? Turn him into a man?" Stomping over to me, he lurches down, grabbing Ruslan by his shirt. “Get up, boy!”
I try to cling on but he rips him away from me. "Give him back!" I demand.
But it’s useless.
Yevgeniy hauls Ruslan—wide eyes rimmed with red—onto his feet. He reaches for me desperately, trying to cling to me even as Yevgeniy gives him another hard yank. My heart leaps to my throat. Jumping forward, I swipe at his small hand. But our fingers can only graze as Yevgeniy drags him through the door and slams it in my face.
It's my turn to shake.
"What is he going to do to him now?" I ask out loud.
"I don't know," Mom whispers. "Gospodi, I don’t know."
I move to the door, putting my ear to it in an attempt to hear some hint of what might be happening behind it. My plan is to try and hear some hint of what's happening down the hall.
At first, there’s only silence.
And then the screaming comes. I don't have to strain to hear it.
Jerking backwards, I put my hand to my mouth. "Ruslan?"
Mom stares at me, her silence confirming my fear. My little brother is shrieking. The awful sound careens through the air, searing itself into my brain.
"What’s happening? Mom?"
"I don't know..." she’s shaking harder than before, and tears are running in streams down her face. “I don’t know.”
I tug at the door but the knob won't budge. I pound it with all my might as I scream. "Stop it! Stop hurting him!"
The screaming stops.
My heart sinks into my guts like an anchor on a ship. Oh no…
This can’t be good.
In desperation I twist the knob over and over. But it’s useless. The knob refuses to turn, and the door refuses to open.
"C’mon," I whisper, fighting back tears. "C’mon!"
Suddenly the knob shifts as the door is unlocked. Someone is opening it from the other side. Leaping backwards, I brace myself, ready to attack Yevgeniy.
But when the door opens, only Ruslan is there.
He shuffles towards us, dragging his feet while his arms are wrapped around his upper body. His head is bent low, and his eyes are blank as they stare ahead.
Relief and worry war in my heart, and the strength drains from my legs as I rush towards him. "Ruslan?"
