Daria
The phone rings at 7:03 a.m., and I know before I answer that everything is about to fall apart.
Kira is still asleep in her room, finally recovered from the fever earlier this week. Pyotr is in the kitchen making coffee, and I’m standing by the window watching the street below when the blocked number flashes across my screen.
I don’t want to answer, but not answering has never made Bogdan go away.
“Hello?”
“Good morning, darling.” His voice is silk over broken glass. “I trust Kira is feeling better? Fevers can be so frightening for a mother.”
I squeeze the phone tighter and tell myself to breathe. “What do you want, Bogdan?”
“What I’ve always wanted. What you’ve failed to give me.” Ice clinks in a glass on his end, even though it’s barely past dawn.“My patience has run out, Daria. I gave you a week. You gave me nothing.”
“I told you, I can’t get the information you’re asking for. Pyotr doesn’t?—”
“I don’t care about your excuses. Remember the custody petition I sent you? Judge Kuznetsov has agreed to expedite the hearing. He owes me several favors, and he’s very sympathetic to fathers who’ve been denied access to their children by unstable mothers.”
My knees threaten to buckle. “You can’t do this.”
“I can. I am.” He pauses, and I hear him take a sip. “You had your chance to cooperate, and you chose to play house with Dmitri’s guard dog instead. Now, you’ll learn what happens when you defy me.”
“Bogdan, please?—”
“You’ll be notified of the hearing date. I suggest you use what time you have left wisely. Either give me what I asked for or start packing Kira’s things. She’ll be coming home to her father, where she belongs.”
The line clicks, and I stand there staring at the phone in my hand, unable to move. He’s taking my daughter, and there’s nothing I can do to stop him.
Pyotr appears in the doorway, and when he sees my state, his face falls. “What happened?”
“He has the judge in his pocket. They expedited the hearing. They’re going to?—”
Pyotr rushes across the room and takes the phone from my trembling hand. “We knew this was coming. We have a plan.”
“The plan requires evidence we don’t have. The plan requires Dmitri to?—”
“Daria.” He gathers my face in his hands and forces me to look at him. “We’re going to figure this out. I will not let him take Kira.”
His forehead drops to mine. We stand there, breathing the same air, and I let myself lean into him.
“I've got you,” he promises quietly. “Both of you. That’s not changing.”
I want to believe him. I want to trust that he can fix this, but I’ve spent three years learning that Bogdan always wins, and the terror clawing at my insides won’t let me forget it.
Before I can respond, Pyotr’s attention snaps toward the window, and he tenses.
“Get Kira,” he orders. “Now.”
His hand closes on my shoulder, and he guides me backward, calm and unmovable.
“What—”
“Black car just pulled up. Get Kira and go to the back bedroom. Lock the door and don’t come out until I tell you.”
I run down the hallway and scoop Kira out of bed, ignoring her sleepy protests as I carry her to my bedroom. She’s still half-asleep, confused, and cranky.
“Mama, what’s happening?”
