Page 3 of A Devious Arrangement
“Mama?” I call out to her, but she doesn’t move. Is she sleeping? Why is she sleeping on the floor?
“Mama?” No answer. Mama always answers.
My chest tightens, and there’s a weight I’ve never felt before. It makes it hard to breathe but also makes my breaths come out fast. I reach out… Why are my fingers trembling like that?
Mama doesn’t squeeze my hand like she normally would. I pull back and use both hands to shake her. She’s heavy, but she finally moves.
“Mama—” A sob steals my words. Her blue eyes, which everyone says look like mine, stare past me. “Mama, wake up. Wake up, Mama. Wake up!”
Footsteps pound moments before my papa slams onto his knees beside me. He’s wrapping Mama into his arms, rocking her back and forth. My own tears flow when I see streams down his cheeks. He never cries.
I wrap my arms around him. I don’t want Papa to be sad.
“It’ll be okay. Mama’s just sleeping.” I tell him.
He grabs me hard and jerks me off him with so much force a jolt runs up my spine, and my teeth clack together. His face is contorted, eyes narrowed on me. I’ve never seen anyone look like this before. He shakes me hard, and I want to tell him it hurts my neck, but he yells.
“You did this. You did this to her!”
He’s holding me too tight, but he doesn’t let go as he tells me over and over that it’s my fault.
I don’t understand. I look at Mama. “Tell him, Mama. Tell him it’s okay.”
“You little brat—” Papa growls, and I wince.
My chest goes cold like ice as he lifts his hand above us and swings it down.
There’s a gasp behind us, but I don’t look back. Papa’s hand is still coming at me.
“Mr. Volkov. You let her go.” Mrs. Irina is holding me now.
“Where the hell were you?”
“I…I was?—”
“Get out of here.” He lashes out with one arm.
She stumbles backward, landing on her butt, pulling me with her. “But…I need to stay with?—”
“You’re fired! Get out!” Papa’s demand booms in the kitchen, echoing off the walls.
Mrs. Irina makes a pained sound, but she lets me go and gets up.
Papa’s holding Mama again as Mrs. Irina disappears around the corner without looking at me.
Mama isn’t moving. She doesn’t answer Papa when he calls her name. She doesn’t look at me and say it will be okay.
My eyes burn, and my chin wobbles as I watch them. Tears flow down my face.
I want my mama.
Thin arms wrap around me from behind and tug me back as Nikolai pulls me onto his lap, and he bands me to him in a fierce grip. He’s crying too.
“Niko, why isn’t Mama waking up?”
His glistening blue eyes meet mine. “She’s gone, Ana. She’s not going to wake up.”
My head swirls as I try to understand. She has to.
