Adrik groaned. “You didn’t tell me anything about my mother’s surgery.”
Yakov shrugged, brushing snow off the windshield. “The doctor will tell you. You’re family. He will explain everything.”
The discomfort under his ribs sharpened instead of fading.
Snowflakes the size of coins drifted down, sticking to his hair and coat. He glanced at the sky—heavy clouds rolling in.Great. I’ll be trapped here forever.
He climbed into the SUV, shivering as Yakov cranked up the heat. The drive through Seversk was quiet except for the hum of the engine and the soft thud of snow hitting the windshield. Adrik kept imagining the worst—his mother alone, bleeding, scared. He pressed his palms against his knees, trying to steady himself.
At the hospital, Yakov led him through a maze of hallways until a nurse pointed them toward a small office. The doctor, an older man with tired eyes, motioned for Adrik to sit.
“Your mother needs a hysterectomy,” he said slowly in Russian, enunciating each word like he knew Adrik would be struggling to keep up. “She lost a lot of blood.”
“Will she be okay?”
“Yes, she needs more blood.”
Adrik nodded, throat tight. “I can give blood. We have the same type. Negative B.”
The doctor’s eyebrows lifted. “Excellent. The surgery will begin in an hour. After you see her, go to the lab.” He handed Adrik a small map of the hospital and circled two spots. “Here is the lab. Here is her room.”
“Thank you,” Adrik said, folding the paper carefully even though his hands felt clumsy.
Yakov walked him to her room but stopped at the doorway. “Go. She will want to see you alone.”
Adrik stepped inside and froze again but for a different reason. Her skin was so pale, it was hard to tell where it ended and the sheets began. A sudden, piercing pain shot through his chest.
“Mom,” he whispered, sitting on the edge of the bed. “How are you?”
She opened her eyes, and the moment she saw him, she pushed herself up and wrapped her arms around him. “Adrik! What a beautiful surprise!”
He held her carefully; afraid she might break. “How did this happen?”
“No idea,” she said, brushing his cheek like she used to when he was little.
“Why didn’t you go back to New York?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.
“I told you why,” she said gently. “I’m happy you’re here.”
“I’ll be here as long as you need me,” he promised.
Two nurses entered, apologetic but firm. “We need to prepare her,” one said.
Adrik kissed his mother’s forehead. “I’ll see you soon.”
He stepped out, letting the nurses close the door behind him. Yakov waited silently, hands in his pockets. Together they walked to the lab, where Adrik rolled up his sleeve and donated blood, trying not to think about how much she needed it.
Later, back at his mother’s house, he finally called Hans. The moment Hans answered, Adrik felt his shoulders relaxed.
“How is she?” Hans asked immediately.
“She’s… stable. Surgery was an hour after I arrived. I gave blood.” Adrik glanced out the window at the swirling snow. “And it’s freezing here. Like, actually freezing. I can’t feel my face.”
Hans laughed. “I miss your face.”
Adrik smiled despite everything. “I miss you too.”
“Are you okay?” Hans asked.
