I closed my eyes and saw her as I'd left her—standing in the sunlit library, her hand raised, her eyes bright with tears.
Come back to me, she'd said.Promise me.
And I'd promised. But promises meant nothing if I couldn't keep them.
There were things I should have said. Words I'd been too cautious to speak, feelings I'd held back out of fear or superstition or some misguided sense that there would be timelater. Now, staring at the static where her face should be, I felt the weight of everything unspoken pressing against my chest like a physical wound.
If something happened to her—if I never got the chance—
I couldn't finish the thought. Couldn't let myself go there.
Instead, I stared out the window at the endless blue below and willed the plane to fly faster.
Hold on, I thought, as if she could hear me across the miles.
Hold on, little dove. I'm coming.
Chapter 19 - Gaby
The house felt wrong without him.
I tried to work after he left—tried to focus on the Athens acquisition reports spread across the library table. But the numbers blurred before my eyes, and my thoughts kept drifting to the helicopter I'd watched disappear over the horizon, carrying him away from me.
Come back to me, I'd said.Promise me.
He'd promised. But promises felt fragile when the person making them was flying toward danger, and I was stuck on this island with nothing to do but wait.
I gave up on work around midday and wandered the house, restless and unsettled. The guards seemed tenser than usual—or was I imagining it? Every time I passed a window, I saw them scanning the perimeter, hands resting on their weapons. When I asked Yelena about it, she smiled and said Mr. Chernov had simply increased security before his departure.
Nothing to worry about.
But I worried anyway.
The afternoon crawled by. I tried to read, tried to nap, tried to eat the bland crackers Yelena brought me for the nausea that came and went without warning. Nothing helped. The wrongness in the air had settled into my bones, a low-frequency hum of dread I couldn't shake.
At four o'clock, I gave up pretending and went to stand at the library windows, watching the Mediterranean glitter in the late afternoon light. Vasily would be hours into his flight by now. Somewhere over the Atlantic, moving farther away with every passing minute.
My hand found my stomach, pressing against the barely perceptible swell.
We're okay, I told the baby silently.Your father will be back soon. Everything's going to be fine.
I almost believed it.
The first explosion shattered that illusion.
It came from somewhere to the north—a deep, percussive boom that rattled the windows and sent birds screaming from the trees. I stumbled back from the glass, my heart lurching into my throat.
For a moment, everything was silent. Then the gunfire started.
Short, staccato bursts. Answering fire. Men shouting in the distance—words I couldn't make out, in a language I didn't recognize.
I stood frozen, my mind refusing to process what was happening. This was supposed to be safe. Vasily had promised I'd be safe here. The island was fortified, guarded, impenetrable—
The library door burst open, and Yelena rushed in.
I'd never seen her anything but composed. Now her face was white, her eyes wide with fear. She grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the door.
"We have to move. Now."
