In the center of the room, Nina is propped up on a chair, her face pale and expressionless. Her arms and ankles have red marks, as though she was previously tied to the chair. Rage surges inside me.
She’s facing the door but clearly unconscious. Her eyes don’t move, nothing shows that she registers it when I call out her name. She’s perfectly, terrifyingly still.
A jolt of dread spears through me.
I rush towards her, but two guards step in to hold me back.
“Artyom.” Polina’s face is pale. For the first time in my damn life, she sounds apologetic. “It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” She approaches Nina, the guards holding me back as I growl at the sight.
Why won’t they let me near her?
Then Polina reaches for Nina’s head and rolls her so that I can see her back. Her dark hair hair is matted and shining with blood, the back of her nightdress stained crimson.
I hiss at the sight, straining against the guards to run towards her.
Just as I break free, Polina cries out. I see a flicker of movement. Nina raises her head and lurches into action. There’s nothing graceful about it, pure chaos and rage in one fit ofenergy.
Polina’s yanking Nina back by her hair, her hand flying to her chest.
Where a knife has been stuck exactly into her heart.
I meet Nina’s eyes across the room as she pulls the blade from my mother’s chest. She looks dazed, as though she’s just woken up from a nightmare. Her eyes are amber and blazing with fury.
She’s alive.
She’s alive, holding a bloody knife, and Polina is the one who drops to the floor.
Nina turns to me, her once again face blank of emotion or expression, like she’s sleepwalking. As our eyes meet, her lips curve into a smile. “I knew you’d be here.”
Then Nina plummets to the ground. I dive across the room to catch her before she hits the concrete again. My hands almost slip on her back, there’s so much blood, but I pull her close to my chest and wipe her hair back from her forehead.
“What happened?”
Nina raises a hand to my face and rage surges in me when I see how her wrists have been rubbed raw from rope. Her eyes are clouded and unfocused, but she smiles as her cold fingers trace along my jaw.She’s clammy and shivering.
Her brow draws together and she squeezes her eyes shut. That knock to her head must be painful.
“I don’t understand. Why did they stop her?” She asks, her voice dazed.
“Why did who stop who?”
I look up and realize everyone in the room has turned around. Butthey’re not watching me and Nina, or even checking on Polina.
No, their eyes are turned towards the entrance to the basement, where the tap of a cane signals exactly who has arrived.
Vanya enters the basement with a smile on her face, no reaction to the sight of her daughter in law covered in blood. She’s holding Ava’s hand, who starts to wail when she sees Nina covered in blood.
“Shh, child, she’ll live.”
Ava pulls away from Vanya and runs across the room to me. I pull her close to my side and almost cry with relief.
They’re alive. They’re both alive.
The pit of dread in my stomach loosens a little, replaced with confusion.
“The meeting’s over?” I ask Vanya.
She flaps a hand. “Oh, that. Yes, it’s over, Tyoma. But more importantly: well done, my boy.”
