"Blyad," I mutter.
"What?"
"My mother. She's... enthusiastic."
"KOSTENKA!" Yelena is already crying, not bothering with a coat despite the cold. She reaches my door as Andrei opens it. "You came! You actually came!"
I step out. She pulls me into a hug that's more tackle than embrace. "Yes, Mama. I said I would."
"And you bring girlfriend! WHERE IS SHE?"
Jemma is still in the car. I can see her through the window—pale, terrified, frozen.
I walk around and open her door myself. Extend my hand.
She looks at it. Then at me. Her eyes are sayingplease don't make me do this.
I keep my hand extended. "Now."
She takes it.
The moment her hand touches mine, I pull her close. My arm goes around her waist, possessive and unmistakable. She's trembling.
"Breathe," I murmur in her ear. "You can do this."
"I can't."
"You can." I turn us toward my mother. "Mama, this is Jemma. Jemma, this is my mother, Yelena."
Yelena's eyes are already welling up. "Oh. Oh,devochka, you are beautiful! So beautiful!" She pulls Jemma from my arms into a hug.
Jemma makes a small, startled sound. But then, a miracle: she hugs back.
"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Volkov," she says, and her voice is steady.
"No, no! You call me Yelena! Or Mama!" My mother pulls back, gripping Jemma's arms. "You are perfect! DIMITRI! COME SEE!"
The front door opens again. Dimitri appears, followed by Anya and Natasha.
"Finally," Dimitri says, grinning at me. "I was starting to think you made her up."
I flip him off. My mother swats my arm.
"Dimitri, this is Jemma. Jemma, my cousin Dimitri, his wife Anya, and their daughter Natasha."
Jemma smiles. It almost looks real. "Hi. Thank you for having me."
Natasha runs forward. "Are you really Uncle Kostya's girlfriend?"
Jemma glances at me. I tighten my grip on her waist in warning.
"Yes," she says. "I am."
"Babushka said you were very pretty and she was right!"
"Thank you." Jemma's smile gets a little more genuine. "You're very pretty too."
"I know! Do you want to see my room? I have a dollhouse!"
