Ilana studied me for a long moment, then she nodded.
“Good.”
She moved toward the door.
“Ilana.”
She paused.
“If they refuse.”
“They won’t.”
“And if they do.”
Her gaze sharpened.
“Then you remind them,” she said quietly, “that she is not a possession.”
Neither was I. The door closed behind her, and the safe house suddenly felt smaller. I looked down at my bandaged ribs and the dried blood. The cuts. Everything that would eventually heal. The only wound that mattered was the pain that she was going through right now, and I needed to get to her to end that.
I had been so certain and so sure about her betrayal that I had almost lost her because I couldn’t imagine she would choose me when it mattered most. But she had. And I had walked away. But I would never do that again. She was mine, and she was coming back home.
Chapter 23 - Elisse
One week after the attack, the Chernykh mansion felt like a museum of my childhood. It was still familiar and immaculate, but it was slowly beginning to feel unbearable. The walls were the same muted ivory. The chandeliers still cast golden light over polished marble floors. The staff moved quietly, efficiently, as if nothing had detonated in the center of our world seven days ago.
I had not cried in front of anyone, and that seemed to disappoint them more than if I had. I forced myself out of bed every morning, but that was the extent of my cooperation. I wore black almost every day, not as mourning, not as symbolism, but just because it required the least amount of thought. My hair stayed loose, un-styled. I ignored the trays of food left outside my room. I ignored the way the guards trailed me subtly, as if I might vanish again or as if I was planning to run away.
I wasn’t grateful. I wasn’t relieved. I was furious.
At them. At him. At myself. At everyone who even tried to breathe near me.
As I stepped into the dining room at breakfast, everyone knew better than to address me directly since I had been lashing out. Except for Iosif, who still attempted conversation.
“You should rest. You have dark circles under your eyes, and it looks as if you haven’t eaten anything in days,” he had said evenly across the breakfast table.
“I have been resting for a week if you had cared to notice,” I replied without looking up.
“You still look exhausted.”
“I am.”
Avgust, who was sitting right beside Iosif, jumped into the conversation as gently as he could. “It’s alright, Elle. We are just glad that you are safe and finally home.”
“I was safe exactly where I was one week ago, as well if the two of you would have cared to notice or listen to me or would have believed me while I was screaming at you that I did not want to go back.”
The fork in his hand stilled at my retort.
“You were in a war zone.”
“You two were the ones who barged in with your men and made it a war zone. Before that, it was just my house.”
Silence followed that, and no one argued with me, mostly because they just didn’t know how to. They had given up much too soon. Because the truth sat between us like a landmine: they had stormed in believing they were rescuing me, and instead, they had destroyed the only place I had chosen to stay. I mostly didn’t speak to anyone at all, but all of them continued to hover.
Zhenya, who was staring at the exchange with horror, suddenly chimed in. “You are being impossible to even talk to, Elle, and yes, I understand where your anger is coming from, but we are just family,” she muttered, putting in a forkful of pancakes in her mouth.
“He is family too, but no one seems to care about that, so I can’t bring myself to care about this,” I replied flatly.
