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“Huh? Oh. Yeah, sure.”
Dad and Galina share a smile before she comes scurrying around the table. While I eat, she combs through my hair with her fingers and starts tying multiple braids, which she pins up below my flower crown. Her touch is gentle, and I have to admit, it’s comforting.
When she’s finished, my dad checks his watch. “Should we head out, Willow?”
“Yeah.” I stand and follow them to the foyer, where Galina opens the door to see us off.
“Congratulations,” she says, beaming and waving.
“Hey, Galina, why don’t you come?” I suggest. “Dad could use someone to keep him company.”
Her smile melts into disbelief as she glances between my father and me. “Are you certain? I do not wish to intrude.”
“I insist. So does he. Right, Dad?”
“Yeah, come with us. We can wait in the car while you change. We aren’t in a rush.”
Her smile reappears. “Yes, I will not be long.”
It took me some time to come around to the idea of his new relationship, but now, I’m glad he has someone. Galina will take excellent care of him when I’m gone.
After Galina peels up the stairs, Dad leans down to wrap his arm around my shoulder, planting another kiss on my head. “I’m proud of you, honey. This means more to her than you’ll ever know.”
“I’m glad you’re happy,” I say. “Just so you know, you have my blessing to marry her.”
A faint blush appears on his cheeks, his smile fading. “How did you know? I haven’t brought it up yet.”
I give him a pointed look. “It’s pretty obvious you want to.”
“I was going to bring it up to you during our trip,” he said. “You know, wait until you were in a good mood before asking you.”
“Well, you don’t need my permission, but I’m good with it.”
He puts a hand on my forehead. “Are you feeling okay? Who are you, and what have you done with Willow?”
I swipe his hand away, shaking my head. “Let’s go before I change my mind.”
When Ivan pulls the town car to the gates of the school, we’re greeted with complete chaos. A large crowd of protesters is picketing out front, more than I’ve seen before, marching in circles with cardboard signs in their hands. Even from inside the vehicle, the energy and anger are palpable.
“Dad,” I whisper, “this is like that night Ivan and I were attacked at Alek’s birthday party.”
My chest tightens when I say his name aloud, so much so I rub at my sternum to ease the pain. Even my throat constricts.
Dad is in the front passenger seat beside Ivan, while Galina and I sit in the back. He takes a deep breath. “What do you think, Ivan? Should we turn around?”
“I see police at the gate,” Ivan says. “I think it will be okay, but we should remain vigilant until the gates are closed behind us.”
“Are the signs the same as before?” I ask Ivan. “Protesting the school’s elitism?”
He nods, his lips set into a thin line.
As Ivan inches the car forward through the crowd of protesters, the police spot us. This time, they have four armed officers, two more than the last school protest, but they are still vastly outnumbered.
If things go south, they’ll be easily taken out.
The police push the demonstrators back, their arms held out spread-eagle to create a path for us to reach the gate. However, the crowd pushes back, shouting at our vehicle with furious expressions. A few of them manage to pound their fists on the car, and the sounds remind me of that night at the President’s Estate.
There’s a sinking feeling in my gut. I can’t explain why, but it feels different this time. Like all the rage and poverty and injustice are about to explode out of a pressure cooker.
