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“Spare me the details. What did you learn?”
“A list of potential safe houses Galina could be in.”
My chest grows tight with joy. “Good.”
“You’re welcome,” she chuckles. “In return, I’m blaming the footprints I tracked through here on you. Make sure Ulyana knows that.”
“You think she’ll believe that I was wearing heels?”
“That sounds like a you problem, not mine.” Mila shrugs before she turns and walks away, heels clicking with each step and leaving distinct bloody dots in their wake.
I’m grateful that she had the presence to remember the mission. My brain has been fractured lately, making it a challenge to stay focused. All I can think about is Galina. It’s impossible to chase the thought of her away from my mind. And each day I’m separated from her, it’s harder and harder to keep myself as sharp as I normally am. The very memory of her dulls my senses.
Once I get her back, that will change.
“Get cleaned up,” I call after Mila. “I want to work our way down this list immediately.”
“You’re in quite the hurry.”
“We can’t waste a minute.”
“Last time we rushed, Arsen Kirilovich, we were cornered and you nearly died.”
“I’m aware.” Making fists at my sides, I work my jaw. “But we need to act fast. If Yevgeniy finds out that Galina is pregnant with my child, he will hurt the baby.”
Mila’s eyes soften. “I have a feeling he already knows.”
A surge of despair careens through my blood. “What makes you think that?”
“He’s a perceptive man. And Galina wears her heart on her sleeve. Even when she was here, she subconsciously tried to protect that unborn child from danger.” Mila wraps her arm around her stomach to imitate Galina. “How long before she does that in front of him?”
Mila’s words ring with harsh truth. “Then all the more reason we have precious little time to waste.”
3
GALINA
Bruises come in more shades than I realized.
If the purple and green hues weren’t patterned across my mother’s throat and arms, I’d find them beautiful. Instead, I’m fighting down the urge to vomit.
“He did that to you?” I ask, seething.
My mother whirls around; she didn’t know I was in the room. She was in the middle of changing clothes. Yevgeniy told us earlier that we’d be moving locations today. I wanted to pack everything, making sure to hide my father’s rose carefully. I’ve been trying to keep it from being discovered. Now, I’ve discovered something Mom is hiding.
“Malyshka, please,” she gasps. “I didn’t want you to see this.”
Shaking my head, I come closer for a better look. The marks resemble fingerprints. “He’s sick. We have to get away from here, Mom.”
There’s a loud knock on the door. “Hurry up,” one of the brigadiers yells. “We’re leaving! Get your shit into the car.”
Mom pulls the long-sleeved turtleneck into place, hiding all evidence of her “catching up” with Yevgeniy.
“Let’s go,” she says, shoving around me with her bag.
I don’t have a chance to respond. I notice she’s stripped the room of all our things, which weren’t many. She grabbed the brooch for me, just like last time. Mom is in pain, but she’s still looking out for me.
I chase after her. Ruslan and Yevgeniy are already in the car. It’s a big van this time, enough room for all of us. Yevgeniy rides up front while Ruslan wiggles into the middle. He acts as a divider between Mom and me. His giant, toothy grin marks him as oblivious to the tension in the car.
