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It was my turn to shake my head. “No. You can put that away. You don’t have to do that.” I didn’t dare look over my shoulder to see if Nikolai or anyone else saw or heard what had happened.
“He doesn’t want me. He doesn't want to even see if the baby is his.” She wiped at her cheeks. “He said even if it was, it’s nothing but a bastard.” She squeezed her eyes shut.
Oh God. The situation had gone from horrible to disastrous. Francesca was pregnant? And the baby was possibly my father’s? My stomach churned and nausea filled me. She openedher eyes and looked over my shoulder and I knew Nikolai and my father were aware of what was happening.
“Put that away before you hurt yourself, you foolish girl.” My father’s voice was rough and hard, scolding as if she were nothing but a child instead of a young woman he’d been having an affair with for the past two years. The girl he’d been sleeping with since she was only sixteen.
God, I was going to be sick.
“You said you’d take care of me. You said I was the only one.”
I felt like I was drifting away, my mind hazy, thoughts not making any sense. I wanted to look at Nikolai, to garner some strength, a little stability. I knew he’d give that to me, but I was rooted in place.
“Francesca,” my father snapped out. “Put the fucking gun away.”
She was shaking her head vigorously, the tears falling so fast and heavy that I knew she wouldn't be able to see clearly.
“How about we all just take a breath.” It was Nikolai who spoke, his voice even. My heart started beating faster as I stared at the gun Francesca held, the gun pointed right at me.
“You kept me on the side. You told me you’d leave her. You told me we’d be together.” She put a hand on her belly and I heard my mother gasp but it sounded distant, as if I were underwater.
“Maybe I should take away something you care about.” Francesca’s voice rose and rose and rose. “Tell them,” she screamed at Marco. “Tell them you want me to get rid of the baby, even if it is yours.”
The foyer was deathly silent, no one even breathing after that bombshell was dropped.
“You’re acting like a dramatic child.” My father’s voice became icy and cold, collected and calm. “And you’re making a scene.”
“Fuck making a scene,” Francesca screamed. “I’m going to take from you what you hold important. I’m going to force your hand in life like you’re doing with mine. Fuck you, Marco.” I watched as Francesca shifted her body, her arms swinging out so the gun was pointed off to the side.
The next sequence of events happened in slow motion as I looked over my shoulder and saw that the gun was trained on Claudia.
I was moving before I realized I was in motion. Although time seemed to slow, I knew it was going fast. Precious seconds that made everything happen in the blink of an eye.
I heard a shot ring out a second after I took Francesca to the ground. I heard a man roar out. Nikolai.
Adrenaline pumped through me as we both struggled. All I could think about, focus on, was getting the gun away from Francesca. Another shot rang out, and shouts came from behind me.
“Please. Please.” I was whispering, screaming, begging and pleading. One more shot and both of us froze, her eyes wide as she stared at me, the expression in her face probably a mirror image of mine.
I was floating, my body lifting off hers, strong arms wrapped around my body and cradling me close.
“Claudia,” I shouted. I could hear the words in my head, felt my lips move, but as everything came rushing back to me, I realized I wasn’t actually making any noise at all.
Sound faded away and all I heard was thewhoosh-whooshthat filled my ears.Whoosh-whoosh.Whoosh-whoosh.
When did it become so cold? Why couldn’t I hear? Why couldn’t I speak?
I found myself on the ground and staring at the ceiling. I blinked, my focus going in and out. But then Nikolai’s face became clear. I saw the pure, stark terror on his face as he staredat something straight ahead, as his mouth moved but I heard no sound. He had this crazed look in his eyes, his face becoming red as he shouted something, as he lifted a hand and swung it wildly in front of him.
And then nothing else mattered as everything faded and I let the frigid hands that had a firm grip on me drag me down into the abyss.
26
Amara
Iwas warm but it didn’t feel real, like when you’re staring into a television screen at a roaring fire and can imagine the heat moving to you, through you, yet it’s not your reality.
But as consciousness slowly altered through me, stronger and faster with each passing moment, I was aware of sounds and smells filtering through my nose, ears, and brain.
