It’senormous. More than I was ever expecting, honestly.
Massive and regal, with steep gables and dark stone walls that stretch into the tree line. Warm light glows behind tall, paned windows. Two balconies overlook a circular drive lined with lanterns, and a fountain, frozen solid from the cold still clinging in the air, sits at the center like some kind of elaborate ornament.
The driver doesn’t say anything as he pulls the car into the driveway and stops at the base of a grand staircase leading up to the front doors.
He steps out of the car and comes around to open my door again. “Welcome to the Sorokin residence.”
I climb out slowly, shoes crunching softly against the frozen gravel.
Holy shit… I’m going to be livingherefor the next six months.
There’s no way any of this can be real. Right?
I’m too busy staring at the mansion to notice two men descending the front steps until one of them is already wheelingmy suitcase up the stairs. The sight of it moving without me jolts me back to the present.
I turn instinctively to thank the driver only to catch the briefest glimpse of him climbing back into the interior of the car. The sleek black frame pulls away from the front steps and disappears around the curve of the driveway, leaving me behind without so much as a wave goodbye.
Alright, then…
The other man, dressed in a sharply tailored black suit with a discreet earpiece nestled in his ear, steps into the space beside me. His hand doesn’t touch me, but he makes a subtle gesture that urges me forward.
“This way,” he says, his accent similar to the driver’s.
The front doors are tall and double-wide, thick wood carved with intricate detailing that I only have a second to appreciate before I pass by them and enter into the massive foyer. Warmth immediately washes over me, chasing away the chill that had settled in my bones since the airport.
And then I see her.
Standing at the far end of the grand foyer is a little girl no older than ten or eleven with bright, inquisitive eyes and a hesitant smile that blooms the second our eyes meet.
Yulia.
I recognize her instantly from the photo in the information packet. But the static image did her no justice. In person, she radiates a quiet brightness that eases me immediately.
“You are here!” she exclaims in halting but enthusiastic English.
Before I can say anything, she takes off at a sprint, her feet barely making a sound as she crosses the gleaming marble floor. Her hair is pulled into two neat braids, and her dress with long, billowing sleeves flutters with her.
“Ivy?” she asks, breathless as she skids to a stop in front of me.
I smile and extend my hand to her. “Hi, Yulia. I’m really excited to meet you.”
Her small fingers immediately wrap around mine in a surprisingly firm grip, and she gives my hand a vigorous shake, her eyes sparkling.
“You come with me?” she asks eagerly.
I can’t help the laugh that bubbles up in my chest. “Sure.”
And just like that, she tugs me deeper into the house, her grip strong and determined around my fingers. I have no idea where we’re going, but I follow her willingly, my suitcase abandoned to the care of the staff.
Yulia chatters as we go, her words a mix of English and Russian, pointing excitedly to different features of the house. Her accent is soft, her grammar slightly stilted, but her energy is infectious. I try my best to keep up with both her pace and her explanations.
“There is pool,” she says proudly, pointing through a massive archway where floor-to-ceiling windows reveal the glinting blue of an indoor pool, pristine and empty. “And garden. Very big. Papa says too big.”
“Too big for what?” I ask, amused.
“Too big for Mama’s flowers,” she replies with a giggle. Then she quiets for a moment, a shadow flickering across her face, but it vanishes just as quickly.
We pass a sitting room with velvet chairs and gold accents, a music room with a grand piano polished to a mirror sheen, and a formal dining hall with a chandelier so massive I’m afraid to breathe too hard near it. After what feels like the tenth room, maybe even the fifteenth, I’ve completely lost track.
