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Is this real? Or is it still only a dream?
I’ve thought about this moment every night since I fled his mansion. The frequency grew once Yevgeniy carted me away from our safe house. And now my dream has become reality. I’m in such a daze that when Arsen holds me at a distance, searching my face, I don’t register that he’s asking me something.
“What?” I utter.
“Are you okay?” he asks—no, demands. The fervor in his wild eyes screams. Please tell me I’m not too late.
“Yes,” I assure him. Blinking, I place my fingers on his wrists, squeezing, feeling how solid he is. One hand has bandages wound around the knuckles. There are puffy circles under his eyes, possibly darker than my own. “How are you here?”
“Where is he?”
My heart skips. “He left just before you got here.”
Arsen’s eyes narrow, scanning the playground anxiously, like he doesn’t believe me. The intensity in his face makes my hair stand on end. He’s hunting. My hand curls around the SIM card. Should I tell him about this?
Yevgeniy’s words enter my head. If you want to get your mother away from me, you’ll need to get yourself away from Arsen as well. This war is only going to get worse.
Arsen snaps his attention back to me. He hugs me again, tighter than before. My ribs creak from the pressure. But that’s not my concern. The hug constricts me enough that it’s hard to move. With a careful shift of my arms, I bring my hand near my pocket and drop the SIM card in.
I can’t tell him … not yet.
Not until I know what side I need to take in this war I didn’t start.
5
ARSEN
She’s safe.
So many things have become uncertain as of late, especially as my world flipped upside down over and over again. But from the second I jump from my car and wrap my arms around Galina, familiar certainty surrounds me once more.
She is safe.
A part of me knows that she won’t be forever, not while Yevgeniy is allowed to run free. But in this moment, it’s enough. Cupping the back of her head, I stroke her hair while my eyes search the playground. There’s no one here but us. Unable to convince myself, I look again, scouring bushes, trees, and even the distant buildings fringing the area. My ears strain for the sound of Yevgeniy’s wretched voice.
But still, nothing.
My hand slows its stroking of Galina’s hair. “He wasn’t lying.”
“What do you mean?” she asks, turning her face upward at me.
I relax my grip enough for her to shimmy out from it, even though it pains me to do so. “He sent me a text telling me to come here and get you,” I explain. I didn’t think it was real.
Somewhere nearby, Mila is stalking the grounds, hunting for any signs of an ambush to ensure that this happy reunion isn’t about to become a tragedy in a split second. Two boeviki stand just outside my car, armed to the teeth and ready to intervene in a second.
My phone vibrates. It’s Mila.
Mila: None of his men are here. The perimeter is clean.
Mila: Is she really there with you? He just left her?
Mila: What game is he playing??
“This makes no sense,” I murmur, “why would Yevgeniy simply allow me to come retrieve you?”
How is it not a trap?
Galina grips my sleeves. Her eyebrows crinkle with worry. “Because he still has my mother.”
