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“She was an amazing woman,” Vanya insists as if reading my mind. “Don’t you doubt that for a second. She was.”
“Then why did she leave you? If she was so afraid of her husband and so determined to live a better life, then why go back?”
He flinches. “Your sister. Every day without her pained her a little more. I knew that. And maybe I cared for her more than she did me. I could live with that. Ihavelived with that. But…” He looks at me and his gaze hardens. “She knew how to reach me, and if she so much as hinted about you—” He breaks off, grinding his teeth. “No Winthorp stronghold would have kept me out. She knew that. I loved that woman,” he admits. “At least the woman I thought she was.”
And maybe, in her own way, she cared for him.
“My name,” I say. “I think she wanted it to be Elena.”
He winces, gritting his teeth.
“I spent so long being afraid of who my father might be. But I never dreamed that he could be someone like you.”
His mouth lifts into the semblance of a smile. “I am sorry you grew up in the way that you did,” he says. “But I am proud to finally meet the woman you are.”
I approach him, and he doesn’t resist the hand I tentatively place on his shoulder.
“But there is still one thing I don’t understand,” I confess. “You say she wasn’t your captive, but Sergei and Mischa seem to believe that she was.”
“Mischa?” He cocks his head thoughtfully. “He doesn’t know. I’ve never told him the truth. With Marnie gone, it was easier to maintain the lie. But Sergei?” His body goes rigid. “Sergei can be the staunchest ally you have ever had on your side. And he can also be more ruthless than every single Winthorp combined. I have never doubted his intentions, but you should always question his methods.”
“Is that why you decided to support Mischa instead?”
“There came a time when Sergei crossed the line,” he says. “He proposed a plan so despicable that I gave him only one option: step down or I would challenge him. So he did.”
“He wanted to hurt Briar,” I say. Butcher her, as Mischa put it.
“I should have gone with them,” Vanya says. “Not only to stop them, but… Perhaps I could have stopped her.”
My mother. Not long after that night, she did the unthinkable.
“But it’s in the past,” he says, pulling away. “There’s no use in dwelling on it. All I can do is prepare for the future, and I will not make the same mistake again.” He reaches out, ghosting his fingers along my cheek. Then he abruptly turns, limping for the door. “We will talk more later,” he promises. “Later…”
I watch him go, unsure of what remains to be said.
Or perhaps it’s painfully obvious: We both spent years seeing Marnie Winthorp as merely a victim.
When, all along…she may have been the villain.
