Hurrying into the house, she was a little worried that her aunt actually would be waiting in the kitchen again. But thankfully, the house was dark and quiet, with Rashel nowhere to be seen. Nadia could go up to her mother’s room without any awkward conversation.
However, almost as soon as she opened the door and turned on the light, she noticed something off within the room.
Nadia was extremely organized. Even in a room like this, which wasn’t her own and where she’d only be staying for a matter of weeks, she kept her belongings in very particular order.
She was quite sure that someone had been inside and moved a few items from their place. For instance, the pen on her desk was now on the right side instead of the left, where Nadia had placed it because she was left-handed. And one of the dresser drawers had a gap of a few centimeters, when Nadia was certain she had closed it tight.
Had her aunt come in the room while she was at dinner?
Was Rashel just snooping around, or was she searching for something in particular?
Nadia had seen Rashel’s face when she’d mentioned her mother’s diary. Was she curious to read it? Or was she afraid that Samara had written something in particular?
Nadia was glad she’d taken the journal with her when she went to dinner. In fact, she resolved to bring it with her at all times in the future.
She didn’t know for certain if that was what Rashel wanted, but the diary was too precious to her to risk losing.
Nadia took it out of her purse now, intending to finish the last few paragraphs she’d been translating.
But first, she had another task that needed immediate attention.
She got an envelope out of the desk and scrawled a short note. Then she stripped her engagement ring off her finger and put it in the envelope, along with the note. She sealed it up and addressed it.
Then she sent this text:
Maxim, I wanted to do this in person, but you didn’t bother to turn up. So, I’ll just tell you now. I’m mailing your ring back to you tomorrow. It’s over between us. I think you may be relieved to hear it—I know that’s how I feel saying it to you. We’re not a good match, no matter what our families might think. I wish you well in life. But that life won’t be with me.
* * *
16
Nadia
November 21st, 1985
Oh, I’m in trouble now.
I’ve gone and fallen in love.
I didn’t want to or plan to, but somehow, it’s happened!
I’ve been sneaking out to see Ivan almost every day. I’ve been skipping class to see him and pretending to go to friends’ houses, and even Rashel has been covering for me.
I think Mama might have gotten suspicious on Tuesday, because Dasha called the house looking for me, when I’d said we were going to the library together. But when I got home, I just said she forgot, and I met Ksenia there instead.
But really every day, every hour I’m with Ivan, or else thinking about him. His dark hair, his hazel eyes, his laugh, his smile, and of course, his body...
No, don’t worry, we haven’t done that yet. But we’re closer than I’ve been before. And I think I might do it. I think I want him to be my first. Your first love should be your first time, shouldn’t it?
Mama and Papa would kill me if they knew. They think I’m supposed to stay pure for whoever they plan to marry me off to. But I don’t intend to do any of the things they want.
I can’t. I’m completely, utterly, head over heels in love. God, it feels so good to say it. I can’t tell anybody, not even Rashel.
Ivan is just amazing—I’ve never met anyone so smart or determined. He says he’s studying economics, and he wants to be in business. He says his father has some kind of business, but he wants to grow it, expand it, make an empire out of it.
I don’t know why he’s so secretive about his family, though. And his friends—I haven’t met even the ones that were at the twins’ party. Ivan says he’s too jealous to introduce me, he wants to keep me all to himself.
I think he might be embarrassed of me, if they’re political. I don’t blame him, if that’s the case—not everyone looks kindly on the wealthy. The Bratva in particular.
