Page 92 of Till Death Do Us Part

She had such an intense way of phrasing even the smallest thing. It was… intimidating to put it lightly. “We want to stop the Horizon project,” I said.

“And then?”

Wasn’t that a question? I smiled thinly. “Then we figure out what comes next.”

She laughed, short and abrupt, but she didn’t get a chance to say anything before the door swung open and Vera came out, limping a little. Her ashen stare into the middle distance crystallized into a stern look at Yulia.

“Were you harassing my wife?”

“Vera,” I laughed, standing up with her. “Yulia was just wondering how we all managed to come together like this. It’s fine. I trust her.”

Vera pursed her lips. “I’d tell you that you trust too easily… but that trust saved my life. So just this once, Yulia.”

“Just this once. After this is settled, I may slit your throat.”

“After this is settled, I’d love to see you try.”

Caitlyn put a hand to her forehead. “Jeez, house full of love.”

I took Vera by the arm, whispering to her. “Are you okay?”

“I got stabbed, shot, gassed, and thrown off a building, but otherwise I’m fine.”

“Well, when you put it like that…”

“I’ll be okay. Jenna worked her magic. And I’ve been through worse. We need to talk strategy. Petra’s still getting her hand treated, but Petra’s never contributed a useful thought in her life. I doubt she’s ever had one.”

“Vera!” Caitlyn folded her arms. “Do you get along with anyone other than your wife?”

“Against my will, the cat.” And as if on cue, soft footsteps came racing in, and Clara yowled as she came around the corner, ramming her head into Vera’s ankle and rubbing her face on her. Vera sighed, stooping and picking her up. “Yes, I see you. I know Caitlyn fed you. You’ll live.”

“Unbelievable,” Yulia said lightly, standing up. “You met a woman, married her in forty-eight hours, and now you have a cat together.”

“Just because you saved my life doesn’t mean I’m not ready to end yours,” Vera said, which would have been more intimidating if she didn’t say it while stroking a kitten.

“We can talk about what comes next once we’re all ready,” I said. “For now, can I ask you something in private?”

Vera quirked her eyebrows at me. After a long silence, she said, “Sure. The music room.”

I wasn’t surprised when we got into the music room and she made a beeline for the piano, but I was surprised by the song she played—something simple, a piece a child might have played. It was simple, a little bouncy, uncharacteristically cheerful, and then as her expression intensified, the piece did, too, transforming into a different song altogether, one I’d recognized her playing before, a dramatic Rachmaninoff piece, and she kept going harder, harder, pounding angrily on the piano, until I caught her with a hand on her arm.

“Vera,” I said softly. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

She stopped, sucking in a shaky breath and closing her eyes as she let it out. Slowly, shakily, she went back to the first piece, the simple one for children.

“Tchaikovsky,” she said quietly. “Lark Song.”

The one that the little girl had been playing—the girl whose father she couldn’t kill. My chest ached. I sank down next to her on the piano bench, my hand on her back. “You’ve looked like something horrible is on your mind this whole time.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her jaw. I put a hand on her arm.

“Please… talk to me. I’m here. You’re safe.”

She slammed her hands down on the piano keys, hanging her head. “They lied to me,” she whispered, tears thick under her voice. “Every single one of them. Glenn knew… the whole… damn… time. And he used me. He watched me burn away for the Blackbirds… knowing full well… knowing full well…”

“Vera…” I stroked her back in the way I knew was comforting for her, and she choked on a sob, gritting her teeth.

“It was Quayle,” she whispered. “He told me… himself. Quayle killed my mother. Quayle did this to me. Quayle did it. Because Glenn ordered him to.”