Page 17 of A Devious Arrangement
“Fine. My robes and masks are in the bottom drawer in my closet. You’ll find the key taped under my desk.”
It’s my turn to laugh. “Geez. Who did you think was going to break in?”
“Considering the punishment for having someone else steal your mask is dismemberment, I’m sorry I was extra cautious.”
A chill runs down my spine, the consequences of what will happen if I’m caught coming in crystal clear. I straighten and push as much assurance into my voice as I can. “I can do this.”
“I know, Ana. If anyone can, it’s you. It’s just if something were to happen to you…”
“Even if someone does catch on, I’ll get out of there,” I assure him, pushing confidence into every word.
“I still don’t like it.” He sounds like the brother who raised me, and guilt rises in the back of my throat. He’s protected me my entire life.
“If it comes to it, marrying some gross Russian guy won’t be the end of the world,” I say, hoping my laugh is believable.
“That won’t happen. We will run. I have some savings stashed where no one knows. I’ll get you out of here. Screw the Salvatores.” Now he sounds like the big brother I’m used to. The one who taught me how to ride a bike and put bandages on my knee when I fell off. I’ve always been able to lean on him. This time…this time, I’ll be the one stepping up.
I raise my chin and make my way to my brother’s room, never so grateful that he hadn’t moved out.
“I’ve got this, Nikolai.”
There’s a long pause before he releases a breath and says, “Just promise you won’t do anything risky.”
Bash’s gray eyes and the sly smirk he wore as he answered my questions fill my vision. I won’t be telling my brother any of that.
“I promise.”
He huffs. “Why don’t I believe you?”
“Aren’t I always good?” I say sweetly.
He laughs, and I’m glad to hear the levity return to his voice. “If that were the case, I’d be there, and you’d be here.”
“I love you” is my only reply. This time, we will just have to disagree because to me, we’re exactly where we belong. I started all of this years ago. The second my mother fell, all the dominos that led us here started to fall into place. I have to do this…I couldn’t live with myself if I didn’t.
“Love you too, kid. Video call me when you get everything ready. I want to check what you look like before you go out.”
“Of course you do.” I groan, hanging up.
It feels weird to push open my brother’s bedroom door. I haven’t been in here without him since I was little, but it’s still as familiar as ever. Back then, he’d let me flip through his comics while he played games. I didn’t realize it at the time, but he was kind of a dork. Which was partially my fault because he’d been taking care of me ever since my mother passed away.
I’m haunted by the memories of that bright morning. The way my mother lay perfectly still on the floor like she was sleeping. I called her name over and over, begging her to wake up, but instead of her warm smile, her hands were ice-cold. I needed to show everyone there was no reason to cry, but when her face turned toward me, her lifeless eyes stared past me. My dad dropped beside me, his shoulder hitting my own, pushing me out of the way. His sobs filled the room as he hugged her stiff body.
I pulled on his shirt, trying to get him to see me, to hold me, but he never looked away, and he hasn’t held me since.
It wasn’t until I saw the blood on my hands that I understood. My mother was never coming back, and it was all my fault.
I’d spent so much time in this room because it was Nikolai who comforted me when I had nightmares. Most were gruesome, filled with my mother’s scream and my father’s cries. Some were sweet, where I didn’t ask her to climb up to get that damn balloon, but she still ended up cold on the floor. No matter what I did, she never woke up.
Nikolai was the one who woke me, telling me it would be alright, and always kept a light on because I hated the dark.
He was only a few years older than me, but he’d taken over where my father couldn’t.
Tragedies shouldn’t be allowed to happen on such nice days. That moment played over and over in my dreams. The stiff hands, the dull gaze. It feels cruel that it was so sunny outside.
Our father walked around like a ghost after that morning, passing through the space like we weren’t even there. The love he had for my mother had broken him.
I slide my hand beneath Nikolai’s desk until the cool, jagged edge of the key brushes my fingers.Gotcha.I unhook it from its hiding place and proceed to the closet. Gone are the oversizedsweaters he used to wear, replaced with crisp pants and button-down shirts. Guilt pulls at my chest at the way he’s had to step up to lead our family when my father couldn’t.
