I stay up all night poring over the documents that Ivan sent through.
The files from Ivan show me nothing I don’t already know. Nina is hard-working, to the point of overwork. She takes on extra shifts at the hospital when people need cover. She’s underpaid, scrimping and saving to make ends meet, but she makes sure her daughter has a full and rich life.
As I read through the details of her appointments, travel and friends, the question of Ava’s father is never far from the top of my mind.
I pause on a recent photo of Nina, her arm slung around Daniel’s shoulders. Her hair is curled and loose, and she’s wearing an ugly green Christmas sweater that matches Daniel’s. She always likes thatkind of bullshit.
It was taken at the hospital Christmas party last year, according to the notes Ivan took.
He is damn thorough. I hired the right man.
Even though I insisted that I wasn’t interested in the personal details of Nina’s life, he has prepared them for me anyway. As if it were obvious that my obsession with her would grow to this point.
The notes don’t say anything about a relationship with Daniel. And I suppose the timeline doesn’t match up either.
I don’t know a whole lot about kids, besides the devil spawn that my cousins have brought into the world, but Ava is at preschool. She’s no longer a baby.
There’s no mention of Daniel before Nina started working at Middlefield. But that whole period of her life remains a black hole in my information gathering.
If the rest of the Bratva knew that I had been paying someone full-time to ensure Nina‘s safety, I don’t think it would go well.
But I’m in charge of the money — if I say it’s a worthwhile expense, it is.
Nina‘s expenses are mundane and even meager. The occasional brunch with her friends, a very rare trip to a bar, mostly the grocery store, the daycare, and occasionally Starbucks.
Whoever this bastard is who left her with a daughter and without support, he doesn’t deserve to live.
No one treats Nina Porter like that and gets away with it, not as long as I’m alive.
I make a vow to myself.
If I find this man, and I will find him, I’ll make him suffer before he dies.
7
NINA
There is nothing more stressful than a sick child.
Especially when I’m on my last strike with my workplace.
I wake up in the dark to Ava climbing into my bed, overheated and sobbing.
“Mommy, it’s too hot.”
I bring a hand to her clammy forehead. She’s burning up. “Oh sweetie, let me see you.”
I switch on the lamp and take in her flushed face. She winces at the light.
Her golden hair is fluffy around her head and with her flushed cheeks, she looks like a cherub straight out of a Renaissance painting.
I try to settle her back to sleep, but she’s restless. All it takes is a hand on her forehead to tell that she has a fever, but she cries anytime they get the thermometer anywhere near her.
She’s clinging to my side like a limpet, insisting that she comes with me whenever I head to the bathroom to get her another cool flannel.
I check the clock when she finally drifts off. 5.30 am.
I’m supposed to be clocking in within half an hour.
