A tall man with a dark gaze met me at their door, a small bulge in his suit jacket revealing the gun I knew he had underneath. My stomach turned over as he opened the door for me.
Golden light trailed outside and skimmed over the shadows covering us. All I wanted to do was run back to my crappy apartment, throw back some wine, and slip into the fantasy of dreams Gemma had clung to so dearly.
Instead, I stepped out of the night into an even worse darkness.
“Alisa,” my mother said with a tight smile as she ushered me inside. Everything was exactly the same as the last time I’dbeen there. Pictures of Kiril playing hockey, Kiril smirking at the camera-
I looked away, I couldn’t dwell on the child that my parents wished had lived instead of me. I needed to survive this night.
“How’s work going?” my mother asked while I shrugged my jacket off.
“Good.”
I waited for her eyes to light up. After all, my success reflected on my parents, and added to their wealth.
She nodded stiffly and hung the jacket I’d been able to thrift with my miniscule funds. After a beat, she wrapped me up into a hug. It felt hollow, like she was going through the motions rather than embracing me because she wanted to.
Still, I melted against her. Some of the tension left my body that’d manifested the second she texted.
I spotted a blossoming bruise on her arm. Guilt seeped into that spot the tension had vacated.
“How are you doing, mom?” I asked, staring at the bruise with a frown.
She tucked the sleeve of her dress lower, hiding it from view. If only it were that easy.
There was a crash in the distance, and her lips pinched into a line. “Would you like something to drink?”
I’d need it to survive the evening. Without waiting for my answer, she strode towards the bar cart and poured vodka into a glass.
I gently took the glass out of her hand and added a mixer to my drink. When heavy footsteps echoed in the distance, I tossed back half of it.
“Alisa? What are you doing here?” my father said, a slight slur in his voice.
I steadied myself before turning away from the onyx bar cart. “Good to see you,” I lied.
“You look like shit,” he said, his nose wrinkling as he looked me over.
I shoved down any sarcastic thoughts. Then swallowed down the frustration that I looked like this because I was forced to drug myself with poisons. And it certainly didn’t help when they severely restricted my spending.
All of it I forced down my throat with vodka.
When I polished off the rest of my drink, I found safe words to lighten his dark mood. It was the reason mom always called on me, leaned on me.
I was the only one left who could bring my father from this dark place, away from the moods that left bruises along everyone's arms.
“Did you know I reached twentieth place in the competition?" I said, moving the subject to a safer place.
I don’t know why I worded it as a question. Of course he knew. The competition was probably the only reason I’d been born.
Irritation rippled across his face. Surprise bubbled up inside of me at his reaction. His fingers tightened around an empty crystal cup, and for a moment I hoped it’d shatter.
No, that would just piss him off more. I needed to calm him. Play the part of the docile daughter.
“The Pakhan announced my new rank at the meeting. You know, it’s the highest I’ve ever been ranked,” I reminded him with a smile.
Higher than Kiril had ever ranked, but I wanted him docile, not pissed, so I kept that to myself.
“I heard all about the meeting from my friends,” my father snarled.
