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The man makes squinty eyes at her like he understands what she’s saying.
“Come with me, little girl.” The woman named Yulia reaches for my hand.
“Go,Katya,”Mamanstresses the strange name again.
Yulia’s hand is warm and envelops mine. When we go inside the house, it makes me dizzy, it’s so big. Scary large pictures line the walls of a hallway. It smells funny, too.
“I want to go home.”
Yulia holds my chin. “I think you are home, child. Your mother is leaving now.”
“Que?”I spin around and see the man in white draggingMamanby her arm down the driveway. “Where is she going?”
The man in white shoves her in a car, yelling something at her. And then the car drives off.
She’s leaving me!
“Maman!” I scream and break away, my fingers slipping through Yulia’s tight hold. I make it out of the house and run down the hill, but I trip and skin my knees.
A man in a dark suit picks me up. “Privet, kid. Be careful.”
“Laissez-moi passer!” I scream for him to let me go, but he grabs me and pulls me back up the hill.
Yulia hurries to me. “Take your rough hands off that child. Oh goodness. She is hurt. Give her to me.”
The man in the dark suit lets me go, and Yulia pulls me against her chest. She’s soft and smells sweet. Like sugar. “She left me!Mamanleft me. Is she coming back, miss?”
“Yulia. Call me Yulia.” She holds me, shushing my tears. “Perhaps she will be back tomorrow. Come now, let me look at your cuts.” Yulia brings me back inside the house and into a bathroom. “Your name is Katya?”
“Katriane,” I say with emphasis on the r.
“Français?”
“Oui.”
She speaks French to me as she tells me it will be all right, that no one will hurt me here. She cleans my wounds, the strange smelling liquid cooling my cut. But then a wicked sting makes my legs kick.
Yulia smiles at me and steers me out of the bathroom. In the hallway with the scary pictures, her lips go flat seeing the man in white who waits for us. The nice woman holds me against her chest. She says something to the man in that other icky language. When he reaches for me, Yulia, holds me tighter.
He barks something to her, and she releases me a second later. Yulia bows her head and scurries off. I’m terrified to be alone with this man.
He stares at me, his eyes narrowing to slits. His cold fingers slide under my chin as he turns my head from left to right. “A doctor is on the way.”
“My…my knees are fine, sir. That woman—”
“Not for your knees. To test you.” His hand sweeps across my cheek. “You look much like my mama. Still, I need to be sure. Come, I will introduce you to your sister.”
“Sister?” I squeak, asking him. “I have a sister? How old is she?”
The man in white glares down at me. “Fourteen. How old are you?”
“Twelve, sir,” I say on a painful swallow.
His eyes slip closed, and he pinches his jacket’s lapel whereMamanshoved papers into his pocket. “Follow me.” He steers me deeper into this massive scary house. “Are you hungry?”
“Um. No, sir.”
He stops and stares down at me. “You may call me Papa.”
