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And though I desperately want to run away, I pause and turn to face him once again.
“Sometimes, to do the right thing, you have to compromise and make sacrifices you never thought you might,” he says. His expression looks as though he’s carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.
What little consolation it might be, at least it appears as though my father’s ashamed of the lengths he’s gone to.
But that’s not good enough.
I can’t believe it. After a lifetime of listening to my dad, his long-winded speeches about not giving in to the pressures of society—his orations about how our integrity is the only thing we have control over in this crazy world—he’s gone and sold his soul.
And for what?
Did he do this because of Ben’s death?
Or did he sign on the dotted line long before that?
It feels like my world is something straight out of a nightmare. My parents, who I’ve always trusted to be honorable and honest—if not overly concerned with their public image—suddenly seem just as corrupt as everyone else around me.
Did Dad’s decision to ally himself with Mikhail contribute to Ben’s death in some way?
For the first time in my life, I find I have absolutely no one I can turn to. No one I can trust.
If I had anywhere else to go, I would leave right now and not look back.
But with Efrem and Pyotr as public enemies one and two, I have nothing left.
Without another word, I race up the stairs to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.
It’s then that I recall one of my last conversations with Ben. The last time he attempted to mend fences between us—before the day he was killed. He suggested I should come live with him, that it was us against the world.
And I was so confident in my opinion of Efrem that I turned him down flat.
I didn’t even give it a second thought.
Deep remorse floods through me now, leaving me hollow as I realize it’s one more regret to add to my ever-growing list. I never should have let someone come between me and my brother. Not Pyotr. Not Efrem. Not Mikhail.
Even at his lowest, Ben was always willing to have my back. Yes, he might have suggested the abhorrent idea of me dating Mikhail as well. But he’d been willing to back off when I told him no. And still, he loved me.
Maybe it’s wrong of me to be so willing to forgive my brother when I can’t bring myself to forgive my parents. But Ben was young, impressionable, and idealistic. He handed his loyalty to Mikhail without considering the deeper consequences of his actions.
My dad went in with his eyes wide open.
He knows Mikhail is exactly the kind of man he’s been building a case against for his entire career. And still, he chose to make a deal with him rather than stand his ground and maintain his integrity as an honest politician.
And worse still, he knows Mikhail’s a criminal, and he still suggested I spend more time with him. My world feels utterly topsy-turvy, when I sat just a few short months ago in that same living room and listened to his lecture on staying away from the Veles family because of their criminal ties.
What, was Pyotr just not the right kind of criminal for my father?
He’s the hammer, whereas Mikhail’s the scalpel?
I could almost believe that’s his reasoning. Except Mikhail has proven more than willing to use the same kind of violence Pyotr’s been accused of countless times in the past. Mikhail just wanted a politician in his back pocket before he started taking such bold risks.
It turns my stomach to realize that I might be the only person still alive who was naive enough to think that honest people might exist.
And now, I’m starting to grasp the cold, hard fact that integrity is a myth.
A pretty daydream concocted by the best liars to mask their unspeakable sins.
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