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And I haven’t had the courage to come back during the night, especially with how often I pass out due to Adrian’s thorough fucking.
“Kolya is Adrian’s number one man and confidant,” Yan says. “His loyalty lies with him and always will, no matter what the boss does. Make no mistake, if he finds you, he won’t hesitate to sell you out, so you better hurry up.”
“What about you, Yan? Wouldn’t this get you in trouble?”
“I’m just a patient asleep. I’ll pretend I know nothing.” He winks, and my heart thunders.
Holy shit. I saw that wink before, but where?Where?
“Go,” he whispers.
A part of me doesn’t want to, a part of me wants to bury my head under the sand like little Miss Ostrich.
But that part doesn’t win.
Because the biggest part of me wants to go up there and see what’s going on. Maybe if I do, I can find a solution to the situation I’m in. Maybe I can finally get rid of the nightmares.
I squeeze Yan’s arm as a message of thanks, then leave the room. I go up the stairs two at a time because I know Kolya won’t take long to return. As soon as I’m on the second floor, a gloomy sensation crawls up my skin.
Marionette strings snap in my neck as I take mechanical steps down the hall. I shouldn’t know where I’m going and yet, it feels like I do.
I don’t open the first or the second door and, instead, stop in front of the last one to the right. The one with the window I saw that day.
My fingers tremble as I turn the doorknob. I expect it to snap shut and lock me out, but a soft click echoes in the air.
As it opens, the hinges make a small squeaky sound like the ones from horror movies and heart-pounding thrillers.
I don’t know why I think a monster is waiting for me on the other side.
It’s not.
It’s way worse.
Someone lies on a simple bed.
Wires are hooked to the person’s arm. They’re still, unmoving, like they’re dead. But the beeping machine to the right shows a normal beat.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
My sweaty fingers release the doorknob as I approach the bed slowly. My feet are about to fail me, my heart is thudding so loud, it would’ve broken the machine if it were attached to one.
My palms cover my mouth as I stare at the person lying there.
She’s wearing a white nightgown like in the nightmare, her dark hair splaying all over the pillow and her skin is pasty white.
The woolen sheet covers her to the breasts and her hands are crossed on her stomach as if she’s in a casket.
Lia Volkov.
TherealLia Volkov.
I thought she was dead. How could she be…? Why is she…?
My thoughts tumble over each other with no clear direction as a sickening feeling settles over my stomach, demanding I throw up my breakfast.
