His gaze lands on Natalia.
His hand lifts from the blanket. Trembling. Reaching.
"Natalia." Her name comes out broken, barely a whisper. "Come... here."
She doesn't move.
Karolina puts a hand on her back, gently pushing. Natalia takes one step. Then another. Her whole body shakes.
She stops at the edge of the bed, just out of reach.
Our father's hand keeps reaching.
"Closer."
Natalia's face crumples. But she obeys. She always obeys. She leans down, and his skeletal fingers brush her cheek.
"You look..." A wet cough interrupts him. He fights through it. "...exactly like... your mother."
Natalia breaks.
The sob that tears out of her is raw, animal. Her knees buckle. She would have collapsed if Vladimir hadn't caught her.
"Mama—" She chokes on the word. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to?—"
I move before I think.
I pull her away from the bed, away from our father's reaching hand, away from words that will destroy her. She fights me for a moment, then collapses against my chest, sobbing so hard her whole body convulses.
"Take her out." I push her toward Karolina. "Now."
Karolina wraps her arms around Natalia and guides her toward the door. Vladimir follows, his face carved from stone.
The door closes behind them.
I turn back to the bed.
My father's hand has fallen back to the blanket. His eyes find mine. Something flickers in them—confusion, maybe. Or disappointment.
"She needed... to hear..."
"No." I sit back down, take his hand again. "She didn't."
He stares at me. For a moment, I think he'll argue. Even now, even dying, Alexei Baganov doesn't like being contradicted.
But the fight drains out of him. His eyes drift closed.
"Papa." I lean closer. "We'll be okay. All of us. I'll take care of them."
His fingers twitch in mine.
"I'll protect this family. Everything you built. Everything you sacrificed for." My voice cracks. I don't care. "They won't test me for long. And when they do, they'll learn what you taught me."
A sound escapes him. That same wet rattle that might be a laugh.
"Good."
His breathing changes.
