Page 74 of Merciless Daddy

Then Kiryl pulled the alarm.

Staff and guards moved toward the front exits, exactly as fire protocols required. Tonio and Kiryl took a linen cart through the kitchen and walked out behind two confused collection workers while water began pouring from one sprinkler head near the east corridor.

I knew none of this then.

I had only silence, alarms, and Sal’s hand in mine.

Minutes passed.

Each was longer than the flight from Brooklyn to Chicago.

“Van moving,” Angela said. “Signal has left the property.”

“Which signal?”

“Tonio’s.”

“Kiryl?”

“No tracker on him.”

Of course not. I dug my nails deeper into Sal’s hand. He turned it slightly, giving me more to hold.

Pietro’s voice came through. “I see the van. Following.”

“Can you see inside?” I asked.

“No.”

“Then you don’t know? If they’re safe.”

“No,” Pietro said. “I don’t.”

Honest men were terrible for panic.

Another minute passed. Then Sal’s phone rang.

Tonio.

He answered on speaker.

Road noise filled the room. Someone was laughing and coughing at the same time.

“We are out,” Tonio announced. “Nobody is shot. Although I was struck in the jaw by a criminally ugly Russian.”

“Kiryl?” I said.

A scuffle sounded.

Then my brother’s voice came through, breathless and painfully alive.

“Lena, I hit somebody. I mean I really hit them. There was a fire extinguisher. It was insane!” Then, a pause, before: “I’m very sorry.”

My knees gave way.

Sal caught my elbow with his free hand, but I was already laughing.

It came out broken. Half sob. Half something wild.