PROLOGUE
KATYA
Past
IT WAS A normal, typical day…
Until it wasn't.
Senga, my little sister, and I were watching TV in the living room that evening when there was a knock at the door. My father, who was sitting in his favorite recliner, sat up ramrod straight at the sound. I watched closely as he gave my mother an indecipherable look. And when I glanced at Mama, her eyes were wide as she nervously wrung her hands in her lap.
Something was wrong, I told myself.
My father quickly stood and disappeared from the room to answer the door. I left my little sister, who was still glued to the TV, and followed after him.
"Katerina!" my mama hissed at me, but I kept walking, ignoring her protest.
When I reached the hallway, I stopped at the sound of hushed, angry voices. Mostly it was the familiar voice of my father's, but then a deeper, much more controlling voice had me almost backing away in fear.
Peeking around the corner, I observed a group of men standing in the foyer of our small house, completely overwhelming the space. One older man was dressed in an expensive suit and hat, and he was pressing his chubby finger into my dad's chest, pinning him against the wall.
The hair on my arms stood on end, as if sensing an evil presence. And the man did look like the devil himself with dark, receding hair and black, beady eyes. The older man was much shorter than my father, but the power coming from him made it seem like he was ten feet tall.
His face was scrunched in anger, and he was snarling like a wild animal as he continued to poke my father in the chest as if punctuating each point. He was spouting off in Russian about how my father messed up at the last poker game and now it was time to pay up.
He was here to collect what was owed.
I grimaced at his words. My father was always gambling away our precious money and pawning off things that we owned. I wondered if the television would be next, and it made me sad because it was one of the few things that Senga and I had left. My father had already sold our jewelry, toys and most of our nicer clothes.
He had a good job at the factory and made decent money, but he squandered it all away by playing poker.
"Fine, fine, you can have her, Pavel," my father said next, and it jarred me from thinking about losing the TV.
My eyes widened as I stared at him, wondering if I'd really heard him say what I thought he did. He'd actually bet one of us in a card game?
Angry at my father, I stormed towards the group of men and yelled, "You're not taking my little sister!"
The rich man with beady eyes I now know as Pavel turned towards me with an evil grin on his face. "Oh, dear girl, we're not here for your little sister. We're here foryou."
A cold chill ran up my spine, causing me to halt in my tracks. My head whipped towards my father, expecting him to protest or at least say something,anything.
But he just stood there with his head hung low, quietly accepting the truth of the matter.
He'd bet me in a card game. He'dsoldme to this…monster.
Pavel stepped forward, but I took a step back in defiance. I wouldn't go willingly, if that's what he was counting on. I've dealt with bullies all my sixteen years of life. When you're the poorest kid in school, you're bound to get picked on. I stuck up for myself and Senga all the time. And this man wasn't any different. He was just a bigger bully than what I was used to.
"I'm not going," I said, standing my ground.
"You don't have a choice, Katerina," my father said sternly. "What's done is done."
What's done is done.
And I didn't realize how true those words really were until the rich man whistled and his two oversized goons reached for me. I ran backwards, stumbling, but quickly picked myself back up again.
Once I was back in the living room, I ran for my mother, begging her to help me.
But she simply stared off in the distance, looking right through me, as if I didn't even exist.
