“Explosives are detected. We sprang a trap when they rushed through the windows in the basement.”
My heart pounded. Adrenaline ruled. I twisted, pushing Kalina toward Emil since he was nearest to the door.
I ran after her as we sprinted, jumping and stepping over the dead bodies that littered the hall.
We all scrambled, rushing to exit.
Faster.
Faster.
Faster.
I couldn’t bear it. I couldn’t fail her. I couldn’t fail Emil and Niko and the others. I couldn’t disappoint the family. Luka. Misha—he’d lose both of his parents.
Determined to defy fate and escape death, we charged out as fast as we could.
When Kalina landed sharply on her foot, twisting her ankle, she crouched down and was nearly plowed over by my running after her, Niko too.
“Hurry!” I grabbed her in my arms, clutching her tightly as I carried her the rest of the way.
Outside, men were positioned at the cars to drive off.
Like the team we were, we operated with the efficiency required to stay alive.
As soon as the bright grayness of the sky filled my vision, the instant we were out the door, I hurried to the car.
I landed on the sidewalk. We bounded forward, aiming for the open door of the car. In the time it took for me to lift off with my other foot and sprint the remaining distance, the explosions went off behind me and threw me forward.
36
KALINA
Four months later…
Misha peered up at me with a quizzical frown.
“What?” I asked, trying hard not to laugh.
Under the late-summer sunshine that cast light shadows over the patio space where we sat to enjoy ice cream, Misha seemed to be working up the courage to ask me something else about the baby.
He admitted that he never wanted to ask Gabriella, Raisa, or Sadie about how any of it “worked”, but he was curious. And I would always welcome my son to ask me anything he wanted to know.
Learning was a wonderful privilege. I doubted I’d ever feel like I’d catch up with all the schooling I’d missed out on for fourteen years, but I was doing my best to reenter society as much as I could.
So I’d be the last person to laugh at him for wondering anything.
“Does it hurt?” he asked.
“Well, I’ve never had a child before.”
He smiled. “But I’m your oldest.”
I nodded. “You are.”But when is your daddy going to start the adoption papers to make it legal?
“However.” I cleared my throat. “From what I’ve been told, yes, it can hurt a lot.”
He winced. “Alotlot?” he asked.
