It’s a cell phone.
I stare at the device in my hand, wondering what I’m supposed to do with it and why Evgeny gave it to me. I meet his eyes again, afraid of what he’ll require me to do.
“It’s a burner phone to call your family,” he says.
My mind goes blank, and I can’t process the words he just said. “My family?”
“Yes.” Evgeny pushes up and walks around the island to dump his dirty dishes in the sink.
“You may call them andonlythem,” Dmitri adds, pinning me with a severe look. “And we’re monitoring the calls. If you try to call anyone else, or if you try to tell them what’s going on or where you are, you don’t want to know what will happen.”
I nod my assent. I don’t even need the threat, I’m just grateful to be able to speak to my family again.
Evgeny gathers his papers and book, then drapes his coat and tie over his arm before his green eyes find mine. They stay on me for a long moment before finally sliding away. “Don’t abuse this privilege, Eva. It can be taken away.”
“I understand.”
“Oh, and they think you’re working for the government and won’t be home for an extended time. Don’t get the story wrong when you talk to them.” Evgeny throws the information over his shoulder as he disappears into the hallway shadows, his footsteps receding into silence.
Dmitri follows, and then I’m alone in the silent kitchen. I dial the number I’ve known by heart since I was small enough to use a phone, listening to one ring after another. I know it’s late, but I pray someone is awake.
“Yes?”
It’s my father’s voice, gruff, tough, unfriendly. And it’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever heard.
“Papa, it’s me. It’s Eva.”
I’m surprised at how fast the tears come, and I do my best to hold them back. I can’t tip him off that anything is wrong.
“Eva! When are you coming home from this job? Why couldn’t you tell me you were leaving? I’ve had to get Marco to help at the bookstore, and he’s busy with his studies.”
“I’m sorry, Papa. It was so last-second. They needed me, and I had to go—” My throat, thick with tears, cuts off my words, and I spend the few moments breathing the sobs back. “I promise.” I finally manage to push the tears from my voice. “I promise I’ll come back soon.”
“Is that Eva?”
I hear a voice in the background, higher and not as gravelly as my father’s. Noises at the other end of the line, an exchange of words, and then, “Eva?”
“Marco.”
I press my fist against my mouth to stem the tears. If anyone is going to hear the upset in my voice, it’s my bright, funny, sensitive brother, the oldest of my younger siblings. I switch the phone to speaker, hoping it will distort the emotion.
“Eva? Are you okay? Papa said you called him and said you’re doing this secret government job. Is that true?”
“Yeah,” I tell him, tears leaking from my eyes at the lie and the truth behind it. “Yeah. I’m so good at what I do, they came to get me personally.”
Marco laughs. “Do you know when you’re coming home? I’m doing my best to help out, but I have midterms coming up, and there’s this professor who’s really giving me a hard time?—”
My brother doesn’t want to finish, doesn’t want to bother me when I clearly have something I need to do.
“Hey, I’m earning money for us, right? That takes time,” I say, trying to soothe him, more lies tumbling from my mouth.
“Eva?” It’s my father’s voice again. “Tell them you’re needed at home. Marco needs his time to study. Jordan is asking for money again, and I need you to find him. He’s off somewhere and hasn’t been home in days. And Katie needs you to take her to school, she doesn’t want her Papa to embarrass her.”
More like she wants someone far gentler to help her off to school, to help her with her homework. Dad tends to getfrustrated when someone doesn’t understand a concept he thinks should be simple to grasp.
“Tell them you need to come home, Evushka. Your siblings need you.”
So do you. More than anyone else,I tell him silently, knowing he’ll never admit it, how much he’s come to rely on me. How little he’s recovered from losing my mother.
