Today was the day.
Winter was coming and my baby was due in spring. Just in time for Makari’s flowers to bloom. For everything to come full circle.
I found Ruslan’s listing under Chernograd, took a breath, and hit message seller. Before I could change my mind, I began to type.
This time I hit send.
Nothing happened.
Not for days or weeks or months.
And we talked to our hearts' content in that time. Away from the eyes of his Bratva. I was able to tell my brother everything. He knew what was at stake—every message deleted from his end, mine cleared the same way. Careful. Methodical. The way I did everything now.
I began to consider names for my daughter. The one I settled on meant secret lore, or whisper. Exactly the way I needed her to remain.
Runa Kozlova.
My parents should have been more careful with my name.
Spark.
I laughed quietly, thinking of the sparkling microwave full of unstable chemicals, and caressed my daughter through the skin of my belly.
“I hope you don’t end up like me,” I said, lying back on the bed.“Wild.”
That was when she moved. I had noticed that walking seemed to lull her to sleep—the rhythm of it, the motion. But stillness woke her. As long as she was safe, nothing else mattered.
I talked to her until my eyes began to close.
My Runa.
Chapter 53
Iskra
It had taken me a little time, but I had mastered enough English to manage the hospital staff in Istanbul. I had researched every possible outcome of the birth with one goal in mind.
To remain awake at all times.
The absolute dread of waking to an empty belly and no child gave me palpitations in the months before this moment. No mother should ever have to face that horror. I had faced it once in the worst possible way. I would not face it again.
Here I lay, full term and in labour, trusting the staff around me to keep my baby alive.
No. I was here. I would make this happen.
I asked for help to sit up, then told them I needed to walk. An older nurse nodded in approval and took my arm without hesitation. She stayed with me the entire time—this woman who owed me nothing, who simply understood what was needed. I could have wept. We walked until the contractions made walking impossible.
But it worked.
I was almost fully dilated.
Gravity had helped Runa find her way.
Whenever I felt I was about to tear the metal bars from the bed I thought only of her. Only of the tiny face I so desperately needed to see. The face I had been talking to through my skin for months, the one that kicked when I was still and quieted when I moved.
The nine months had passed too quickly.
As the nurse shouted for me to push, I glanced down and saw them ready. Waiting.
