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“You never failed me,” I tell him, but my words sound hollow.
“Your Uncle Kristian believed that if you wanted to be part of our world then we should open it up for you. At fourteen years old, I thought you were too young for everything that a fully grown Belyaev must shoulder. Shouldn’t you stay innocent?” He laughs without humor. “What a stupid man I was, believing that anyone who had to kill to save herself needed sheltering instead of support. Kristian had the right idea all along, didn’t he?”
Uncle Kristian was the one who talked to me, encouraged me to defend myself, use weapons, and learn all sorts of important and deadly skills. Now that I think of it, he must have done so much of that behind Dad’s back. My heart burns with gratitude because it was what I needed. I needed to feel strong, not powerless. I needed to be anything but that lost little girl standing by her mother’s open grave, sobbing her heart out. I wasn’t going to let those men make me feel weak and small, and Kristian was there to help me through it.
“This is a hard life, Zenya, and I never even asked you if you wanted it. If you would rather walk away from the family business after I’m gone, you have my blessing.”
My eyes widen and I exclaim, “Are you kidding me? After everything I’ve learned these past few years? I’ve been working so hard because I want to make you proud of me, but also because there’s nothing else I want to do. I’ll die before I give it up.”
Dad smiles sadly. “You sound just like Kristian.”
A terrible thought occurs to me. He’s talking about Uncle Kristian so much it makes me wonder if he’s having second thoughts. “Are you thinking of changing your will? Do you want him to lead the Belyaev family instead? But I can do this. I swear I can.”
He shakes his head. “No, sweetheart. Don’t think that I’m talking like this because I’m thinking of changing anything. I would never disinherit you. It’s the right decision for you to lead this family after I’m gone. You’re steady and thoughtful. Kristian is unreliable and irresponsible, and he always will be.”
I wince because that feels unnecessarily harsh. “Actually, Dad, he’s been everything I need him to be.”
As long as he stays. We’re living in a powder keg and things might blow up in our faces one of these days. I pick at a loose thread on my jeans. What if I open my heart to him and then he’s just…gone? Even the thought of it fills me with suffocating panic. Why didn’t he fight harder to stay by my side? If he loved me so much, why did he leave me all alone two years ago?
I swipe an angry tear from my lashes. What’s done is done. He broke my heart, and now I should be protecting it from him at all costs. “Let’s not talk about him. You need to focus on getting better.”
Dad gives me a long, worried look. “You’re angry with Kristian, aren’t you?”
I shake my head. “Who’s angry? I just don’t want to talk about him right now. Ever since he came back, all we talk about is Uncle Kristian.”
Dad scrubs a hand over his face and sighs, his expression is more miserable than ever.
A nurse walks briskly over to us. I brought a takeaway coffee with me, and I sip it as she checks Dad’s medication and asks him questions about how he’s feeling.
Dad’s slumped so tiredly in his chair after the nurse has gone that I wonder if he’s fallen asleep.
A few minutes later, he drags his eyes open and reaches for my hand. “I love you more than anything, Zenya. You and your brothers and sisters are everything to me. You will take care of them, won’t you?”
I nod quickly and reach for Dad’s cup of water. I’ll agree to anything as long as he stops talking about dying. “Have some water, okay?”
He brushes his thumb over my knuckles and smiles ruefully. “That night changed you. I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but after, there was something new in your eyes.” He lifts his shoulders and lets them fall, and then switches to Russian. “How could there not be? You’d taken a life, and at such a young age. Younger than me. Younger than Kristian.”
He’s right about that night changing me, but it changed me for the better. I became stronger. Focused. More determined. If Dad senses any unhappiness in my heart, it’s not because of that night. It’s because of what happened two years ago when someone I loved dearly walked away and forgot all about me.
Two hours later, I get Dad home and help him into bed. He’s always exhausted after chemotherapy infusion and goes straight to sleep.
It’s not until I’m closing his bedroom door and walking down the hallway that I take my phone out of my bag and check the screen. Twelve missed calls. So many text messages. All from Uncle Kristian.
Uncle Kristian:Zenya.
Uncle Kristian:It’s your uncle here.
I roll my eyes. As if I don’t know it’s him. I can feel his tension and gritted teeth radiating from my phone screen.
Uncle Kristian:I don’t need you to do anything.
Uncle Kristian:There’s nothing you have to worry about.
Uncle Kristian:Just give me his name.
Uncle Kristian:Zenya. Answer me.
Uncle Kristian:Why aren’t you picking up?
