Concern etched her kind eyes. She spoke to me in a gentle, soothing tone, tightening her grip on me. I lay in her arms, my body trembling. The tenderness in which she held me was like a lifeline in that moment. The rhythmic sway of her rocking motion created a soothing cadence, surrounding me with a sense of security.
Then, as many mothers do with a frightened child, she hummed a soft tune. The sound, gentle and melodic, filled the room and caressed my frayed nerves. In that instant, the tension that had gripped my muscles released its hold, and I relaxed into her deeper.
“Ty v poryadke,” she said over and over to me in Russian.You are okay.
Sophia continued to hold me, her voice transformed into a tender melody, flowing from deep within her. The familiar tune danced in the air, delicately weaving its way through me. It was an old Russian lullaby, its notes evoking memories long forgotten. Her voice was filled with warmth and nostalgia.
I lay there in awe, wondering how many times she held her own children and sang to them when they were scared. I was transported back to my childhood, to the times when my mother sang the same lullaby. In Sophia’s arms, I could almost feel the gentle brush of my mother’s fingertips against my cheek, the soft cadence of her voice creating a safe haven within me.
In that moment, I was both a grown woman seeking solace and a vulnerable child yearning for the reassurance of a mother’s embrace. Several minutes later, my tears had stopped, and she laid me back down. Christopher had pulled over a chair next to my bed. He was thumbing through the book on my nightstand.
“Could you read out loud a little, Mr. King?” I asked, not ready for them to leave.
“Absolutely. Honey, tuck her in tight and sit beside her,” he told his wife as she looked at him lovingly.
The exchange was sweet, and their love for one another struck me deep. I listened until my eyes grew heavy and his hypnotic voice lulled me to sleep.
CHRISTOPHER KING
“Good lord, I wasn’t expecting that. What on earth?” Sophia asked. My wife’s body shook as we closed Kinsley’s door.
“I’ve no idea, honey.” I wrapped my arm around her and led her to our bedroom.
“Did you hear what she was screaming, Chris? Who could she have been talking about?”
I grabbed my wife’s face, stopping us short of our door.
“I don’t know. I’ll give Alek a call later. Let me get you settled first, then we’ll find out. It’s going to be okay.” I soothed Sophia’s nerves the best I could.
All the while, I could still hear Kinsley’s little voice saying,“They branded her. Why? I just don’t understand why?”A sense of dread washed over me, and my stomach sank.
The last conversation the guys and I had regarding Kinsley and her family background had me fuming. Anger burned through me as they’d shared what little they knew. Marcel had more of the details, but what the boys shared was enough to make me shudder.
Thinking back upon my daughter, who I’d failed to protect, I promised my sons that I would look after Kinsley while they were gone. I knew about her abduction, increased the amount of security I had, and hired several new bodyguards to patrol the grounds.
Still not understanding the relationships between my sons and her, I pushed all of that to the side. My one and only priority was her safety. A nagging sensation settled in my gut, though. I needed some additional information.
This nightmare blindsided both Sophia and me. Hearing her screams awakened my own demons. Seeing my wife hop into comfort mode once more, like she used to do with Vanya, almost broke me.
How many times had she sung “Cossack Lullaby” to our frightened daughter? How many times had I seen the same reaction from a little girl needing the comfort only a mother could bring?
Vanya used to have nightmares almost nightly, and one thing that helped was determining what triggered her. I tried to apply that to our newest charge. What had set Kinsley off? I took my wife back over to her side of the bed and tucked her in. With a trembling hand, she reached up and caressed my face.
“Chris, it was like old times. Like with our sweet Vanya, holding that girl felt exactly the same. All of it,” Sophia sobbed. I climbed further on the bed and held my wife while she cried in my arms.
Once she was breathing evenly, I disentangled myself from her embrace and left the room. As I closed the door behind me, a heavy sigh escaped my lips. I ambled down the hall, the familiar creak of the floorboards echoing my footsteps.
I took the stairs to the library, where my gaze drifted to the liquor cabinet. Hesitating for a moment, I contemplated the wisdom of seeking solace in a glass. But the echoes of Kinsley’s distress had unnerved me, and I needed something to steady me.
With a modest pour, the amber liquid kissed the bottom of the glass. Raising it, I took a sip. The anguish of losing my only daughter hit me anew. After several more sips, I was finally calmed down enough to dial Alek. The phone rang, each passing second amplifying the unease in my chest.
Finally, Alek’s groggy voice filled the line, laced with concern and sleepiness. “Father? What’s wrong?”
“Sorry to wake you, Son,” I greeted him, attempting to keep my voice steady despite the swirling thoughts inside me. “Kinsley had a nightmare.”
A pause sounded on the other end of the line, the silence stretching between us, heavy with concern and understanding.
“How is she now? Do you want me to call Marcel? He won’t mind coming.” My eldest son, my look-alike, sighed, and in that one sound, the heaviness of his burden was made known. He loved this girl fiercely, as I loved his mother.
