“Oh, shit, I forgot about that.”
I shake my head. “I would’ve thought the shooting afterward would have overshadowed it” —I shrug— “but apparently your brother disagrees.”
My drama was definitely the subject of all the gossip afterward. We weren’t the biggest thing to happen that night, but Alexei must find it easier to focus his anger on me than on a bunch of people who are protected by powerful men.
I get it, even if I don’t like it.
It was also the night I realized no one was going to help me while bullets whizzed past. In the chaos, Daniil grabbed Emiliya and fled while I tried to make my way through the crowd toward the closest exit. I ended up stumbling into Andrei, who was a godsend. He got me out of there and made sure I got home, even if he seemed pissed about it.
“How’re you guys doing without him?”
That’s all she asks. She doesn’t try to qualify it or add an asterisk or a footnote. Doesn’t try to act like my husband was nothing to me. Just asks how we’re doing.
I appreciate that even more than the gentle distraction of conversation.
“Niko’s struggling,” I answer honestly. “He misses his dad. And it’s hard for him to accept that he isn’t coming home. This is the first time he’s gone to sleep without tears since Daniil died, so, maybe that’s progress.” I hope it’s progress, anyway. I don’t know how he’s had the energy to fight with me every night, because by the time he finally gives up, I’m dead on my feet, dreading having to do it all over again the next day.
“And how areyoudoing?” She looks at me seriously,and I freeze.
Truth is, I don’t know. I’ve been so focused on taking care of Niko that I haven’t had the time to think about it. Besides, it doesn’t really matter.
My husband’s dead, and I’m too scared to ask Andrei why. Now my days are probably numbered, and I need to make sure that my son is going to be alright when I’m gone. Who cares if I’m constantly fluctuating between desperate fear, burning anger, an all-consuming grief—and in my weak moments, a shameful relief?
No one. No one cares.
“I’m fine,” I eventually answer with a practiced smile.
A line forms between her brows. “You sure about that?” She tilts her head to the side, eyes narrowed like she can see past all the barriers I’m desperately working to construct.
“Seriously, I’m fine. Or I will be.”
Probably.
Hopefully.
“Alright,” she acquiesces. “But if you want to talk to someone, I’m around. And not to brag, but unlike some people around here I know how to tie my own shoes.” She nods at Niko, and I can’t help but laugh. “So, I like to think I’m pretty good at having adult conversations.”
“Are you saying that you’re above discussing the subtle nuance of different shapes and flavors of fruit snacks?”
“I wouldnever,”she gasps, pressing a hand against her chest in mock offense. I laugh, quickly quieting down when Niko stirs, pressing his face further into my stomach.
“I might have to take you up on that. Here, let me give you my number.”
She pulls out her phone, diligently putting in my number before she sends me a text, grinning when my phone dings from my pocket.
“We’ll have to plan a time to hang out. But not at a club opening, alright?” I tell her.
She huffs out a laugh, nodding. “Yeah, that wasn’t the most tactful suggestion, was it?”
“You didn’t know. But some other time?”
“Totally. We’ll figure something out.”
I hope that Nadya is as genuine as she seems to be. I could use a friend.
Chapter 10
Andrei
