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Still, I couldn’t stop myself from following Priscilla on Instagram. I had no photos, but she followed me back because of my name. She messaged me her number and nothing else. I knew what it meant. She was not going to bother me, but she was also there if I ever needed her. This was what having a friend was like, and I was grateful for her.
Only after I was done settling in my hotel room and making sure my baby was in good condition, I went to my mother’s house. I was too nervous, but there was no way I was stopping. I had to see her again. I just had to.
The taxi took me to a suburban street. It seemed like a good neighborhood. It was definitely better than the place we lived when I was here. A side of me felt good that my mother was living a better life now, but I also couldn’t help the nausea because I knew she did this with the money Smirnoffs gave her.
The money for my abduction.
The money for my pain.
After the taxi dropped me off, I walked to the front door with shaky legs. Maybe this was not the right address. Maybe Gabriele was wrong. Maybe my mother didn’t want to see me. Maybe she didn’t want the reminder.
There was no way I could know without knocking.
I took a deep breath, touched my belly for courage, and then knocked.
After just a few seconds door opened. It was not my mother, though. It was a little girl. She had red hair, the exact shade as mine. But her eyes were hazel. She looked to be nine, maybe ten.
I was too nervous, and I had too many thoughts inside my brain caused by this little girl. Still, I didn’t want to alarm her, so I tried my best to put on a smile. “Is this Oksana Kozlov’s house?” I asked in Russian.
The little girl’s forehead creased. When she did that, she looked so much likeher. “My mommy's name is Oksana Petrov.”
I opened my mouth to tell her to call her mommy, but before I could, she appeared behind her. “Who is it, Luda?” but when she saw me, her whole body froze. She was wearing jeans and a green shirt. Her red hair was not as vibrant as I remembered. There were few whites in her hair, and her face had more wrinkles. She was still so beautiful, though. Her voice was sweet as the time she sang me lullabies. Her blue eyes were deep with emotions.
Maybe it was pregnancy hormones. Or me. Or her. But tears started spilling on my cheeks. I couldn’t even care about the little girl. I only focused on my mother like she focused on me. “Mamochka,” I said with a sad smile. I need her to hold me. I needed her to make it okay.
She looked at me with unbelieving eyes. Her eyes also shone with tears. “Kira,” she whispered. “MoyaKira.”
I nodded between tears. I could hardly breathe. But then she came forward. Moved around the little girl and wrapped me into her thin arms. My legs gave out, and I started sobbing. I couldn’t care how it looked. I couldn’t care about anything.
I buried my face into her neck as she held me. “Mamochka,” I repeated countless times between sobs. Her hair got in my eyes. Her scent filled my lungs. She smelled like I remembered. She smelled like love.
And she only held me and caressed my hair. She held me like she was scared I might disappear any minute. By the way her body shook, I could tell she was crying too.
We just stood there for minutes, hours, days crying into each other. No matter how long I held her, it would not be enough. It would never make up for the years we lost.
Yet we tried anyway.
After we cried on the thresh-hold for I-don’t-know-how-many minutes, my mom pulled me inside to the living room. A man I didn’t know who looked to be in his late forties approached us and handed both of us napkins. “You look like you need some.”
I laughed nervously and took it from him. “Thank you.” My throat felt too sore from all the crying.
My mom was sitting next to me and holding my hand. She was still looking at me with awe. For the first time since I saw her, I looked around and saw that the little girl was looking at me a little worried. The guy I didn’t know went and captured her shoulders. They had the same hazel eyes. “Luda, baby, why don’t you go watch an episode from your show?”
She looked a little hesitant, but I could tell she was also excited over the suggestion. “Can I?”
The man rubbed her shoulders and kissed the top of her head. “Of course. I’ll join you in a bit.”
“Okay,” she said and eyed my mother and me before going upstairs.
I turned my eyes back to my mom’s. Same color, but hers were always so much prettier. “How did you come here?” she asked.
Again, a nervous laugh escaped me. My mom was in front of me years later, but I was also in a strange home, and I didn’t know these people. “It is a long story,” I said and then turned to the man who was leaning against a wall watching us with a little smile. “I am sorry to come unannounced like this I…”
“Nonsense,” he cut me off. “You are always welcome in this house, Kira.”
“You know who I am?” I asked with big eyes. It was probably only natural, but it still felt good. I was not completely forgotten about this new life of my mom. I was still a part of it.
He nodded at me. “Of course. We have searched you for years.”
