Silence. Not long. Just enough for my irritation to turn cold.
Then a man laughs softly on the other end.
My blood stops.
“Hello, Anya.”
The voice is not my father’s.
It’s smoother. Younger. Familiar in a way that makes my skin crawl.
Dmitri.
29
ANYA
For a few seconds,I can’t move.
“Why do you have my father’s phone?” I ask. My voice sounds calmer than I feel.
“Is that any way to greet me?”
I grip the phone harder. “Answer me.”
“You always did become rude when frightened.”
“I’m not frightened.”
He laughs again. This time, there’s no charm in it. “Yes, you are.”
My heart begins to pound so hard I can hear it in my ears.
I walk to the bedroom door and open it quietly. The hall outside is empty except for the guard at the far end. He turns immediately when he sees me.
I lift one hand, not sure whether I’m telling him to stay away or come closer.
He frowns.
Dmitri speaks again. “Don’t call for anyone.”
I go still. He knows.
“How do you know I would?”
“Because I know you.”
“No,” I whisper. “You don’t.”
There’s a pause.
When he speaks again, the softness is gone. “I know enough. We were engaged for months, we’ve known each other our entire lives.”
“Yet, you didn’t think twice before cheating on me.”
My stomach twists. “Where is my father?”
“Alive.”
