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What the hell’s going on?
“Char, what’s that noise? Is it still the kid with the trombone?”
She doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, and my heart leaps into my throat. The guys, their attention directed my way, immediately sense something is wrong from my voice. Artem gestures with open hands and all I can do is look back and shrug.
Now I’m on my feet, pacing the length of the apartment. Without focusing, I look out my tall windows to Central Park, and the high rises beyond it. While I’ve come to love my view as a talisman of all that’s possible in life, at this moment, it’s not registering. I could be staring at a cinderblock wall for all the panic running through my brain.
“Char, talk to me!” I insist, trying to keep my voice under control.
There’s a lot of banging, and then my sister finally speaks softly. “I don’t know what’s going on out there, but Daddy’s shouting, and some men are yelling back at him. Someone’s smashing things around the store,” she whispers.
My thinking goes into overdrive while the guys circle me. “Okay, Char, stay in the bathroom and lock the door. Don’t make a sound.”
“Okay,” she says in a voice that’s starting to crack.
This is why I want to get my sisters where I can see them every day and watch over them. Because my father’s never been one to look out for his kids.
“Lil, I’m scared,” she whispers.
I switch the phone to speaker so the guys can hear. “I know, honey. But if you stay quiet, you’ll be safe.”
I look at Artem, who is frowning, and then at Grisha and Valentin, whose faces are equally covered with concern.
“What the fuck is going on there?” Grisha asks after one particularly loud bang.
I put the phone on mute. “My dad owns a pawn shop. It sounds like a robbery or something,” I tell them.
He nods. “That’s what it sounds like to me too.”
Oh god, oh god, oh god. I am worried for my father and his business, of course. But Dad can take care of himself. He always could.
Charleigh is a different story. She spent nearly her entire childhood hiding behind me, afraid of her own shadow. She has zero street smarts.
“Lil? It’s quiet now,” she says in a shaking voice.
Valentin gestures with his chin. “Tell her to open the door very slowly and to let us know what she sees.”
I take the phone off mute. “Char? Look out the door. Tell me what you see.”
The bathroom door clicks. Charleigh whispers. “I’m looking. From what I can see, whoever it was, is now gone. But I don’t see Daddy, either.” Her voice is trembling.
Shit. If my dad is in a bad way, the last thing I want is for Charleigh to find him. Thank god Evie’s not there.
But there is no other way around it.
“Char, if it seems like everyone’s gone, take a look around. But keep quiet and close to the walls, okay?” I say, repeating what Artem just whispered in my ear.
Then I hear a gasp. “Oh my god, Daddy’s hurt,” Charleigh cries, “Lil, he’s on the floor and is bleeding. What do I do? What do I do, Lil—”
And the line goes dead.
* * *
