“Where is it?” His gaze narrows in on me and I step back.
“Where is what?”
“The phone,” he watches my face turn pale, “there’s an unauthorized device in the apartment. You didn’t think my sensors would catch it?”
“I- it’s not like that- I just-”
“Where. Is. It?”
Alexi doesn’t shout or bluster. He doesn’t even raise his voice but I’m terrified. Hurrying into our bedroom, I pull the phone from the drawer. “Here. It was from Uncle Rurik. He wanted me to-”
“Have you been communicating with him this entire time?” He steps closer, I step back and this bizarre little dance continues until my back is against the wall.
“No! Vadik, the man at the tree lot gave me the phone yesterday, he said that someone from home wanted to speak to me, I thought he meant my mother.”
“My tech is pulling the audio from today as we speak,” he says, putting the phone in his pocket. “I’ll know soon enough.” One terrified whimper escapes my lips as he takes me by the arm, pulling me into the guest bedroom, and locking me in.
Sitting on the rug in front of the blank wooden face of the door, I burst into tears. I’m right back where I started, three weeks ago.
Night comes early this time of year, and I watch all the Christmas lights on the buildings around this one turn on. There’s a light snow falling and I try to think of something happy. I’ve stored up all my good memories like old love letters, and when things are bad, I’ll pick one and carefully unfold it, remembering the moment, how it felt.
The last horseback ride I took withOtets,where he told me how much he believed in me.
My eighth birthday party whenMat'listened to me and instead of forcing me to endure a horde of my classmates, threw a small party with just the family.
I unfold one memory after another but they’re not enough to pull me out of this well of misery. The most painful realization is that nearly every one of these love letter memories include Alexi. So, I cry some more until I fall asleep.
The door opens, waking me and I hastily sit up, rubbing my face. It’s Pytor wearing his black suit and a confused frown. “Miss Dubrovina, have you been on the floor all night?”
Humiliated, I glance down at my wrinkled clothes. “Am I allowed to leave the room?”
“Of course, please come with me,” he says with the first thaw I’ve heard in his tone. “I’ve made coffee.”
“I’d like to take a shower first,” I say, not able to look at him.
“Certainly.” He holds the door open wide and I numbly head down the hall to the master bedroom. Alexi had moved all my new clothes into the dressing room there. Will he move everything back into the guest room, with its dark walls and metal shutters blocking all the light?
Dragging my feet, I take a long shower. Brush my teeth. Put on some makeup. Take twenty minutes staring at my clothes before I pull on some jeans and a sweater. Finally, I force myself to go to the kitchen.
It’s a bad sign that Pytor came to let me out of my prison, instead of Alexi. Does he really believe I’ve been a spy for my uncle this entire time?
“Good morning, Miss Dubrovina,” Pytor straightens up from the stove with a polite smile. He’s taken his suit jacket off and rolled his sleeves up.
“Did you make breakfast?” The smell of bacon and eggs is fragrant and most welcome.
“I did,” he admits, putting a ridiculously large amount of eggs on a plate and covering the little egg mountain with bacon. “I don’t know how to cook much, I’m afraid.”
“This looks amazing,” I say, “thank you.”
There’s a huge‘clunk!’from above us and I look up in alarm.
“The boss is having some construction done on the roof,” Pytor says, “no cause for concern.”
Shrugging, I go back to my breakfast and we eat together in silence. When I rise to put my plate in the dishwasher, he takes it.
“Please, allow me,” he takes it from me, cleaning the kitchen quickly. “Your husband-”
“He’s not my husband,” I interrupt.
