“Well then, get on with it. What are you here for?”
Georgiy’s hand moves to the back of my neck, bracing me, knowing this could be painful. “Twenty-four years ago, you adopted some children from Armenia. Samvel and Emma.”
She purses her lips again, folding her arms across her chest.
“Yeah, I did adopt two brats like you said.”
Georgiy’s fingers twitch against me, my chest deflating.
“What about an Ara?”
“No. Never heard that name before.”
My chest constricts, and I rub at it, feeling slightly faint. So, she didn’t house me? This was never my home. Either that or she forgot about me entirely.
“What happened to Samvel and Emma?”
She shrugs, as if their lives never mattered to her. “Dunno. Sold them to the man who wanted them. Money is all these brats are good for.”
I blink at her, my heartbeat ramping up, the thud of it lingering in my ears.
“What man?” I ask, almost breathless.
“Like I’d tell you,” she laughs. “If I say what I know, he’ll hurt me worse than you would. I guarantee you that.”
Georgiy’s hand leaves me for a moment, my body drifting slightly.
“I don’t know about that,” he replies, and Sue scoffs.
“I do. Now is that all? I got nothing else.”
Georgiy considers it for a moment, and as he does, something catches my eye. I turn slightly, seeing a thin boy, about seven years old, in the corner, almost entirely hidden by the shadows. He looks dirty and hungry, and a part of my past rears up.
The way my stomach would rumble, the ache I’d feel inside.
Unloved. Unwanted.
My eyes dart back to Sue, and something inside me snaps.
A second later, a loud crack erupts in front of me, and I see her fall to the ground, blood seeping from her temple.
Georgiy sighs, staring down at the unconscious body on the floor. “Bane.”
“I had to,” I murmur as the bloody hammer in my hand is gently taken from me.
“Da, I know. We’ll question her somewhere more”—he looks around and his nostrils flare— “suitable for the work we can do.”
I nod as he tucks the hammer into my back pocket and nudges Sue with his shoe. She doesn’t move. She’s completely out cold.
“The kids,” I whisper, and Georgiy nods.
“Find them.”
It’s all the permission I need, moving toward the boy, who shrinks back in the shadows. Afraid, wary, far too old for his young years.
“Hello,” I say kindly, offering him a small smile. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”
I see him peering around me, watching as Georgiy reaches down and grabs the envelope of cash from Sue and stuffs it back into his suit pocket.
