"She will be."
"They didn't?"
"No." It doesn't appear as if anyone has touched Katya. There's a red mark on her cheek as if she's been slapped but I think that's the extent of her injuries.
"We're about to take off," he warns me.
"I'm not moving her."
Damiano nods, having expected that answer. If this was Violetta, he'd defy safety rules too. He gives me a look that conveys a wealth of understanding before withdrawing and closing the door behind him.
The plane takes off ten minutes later and I'm relieved to be airborne. I hold Katya in my arms and watch her sleep. She's peaceful now and I wonder how she'll be when she wakes up.
Santo meant a lot to her, more perhaps than I realized. He was a good man and his loss is nothing short of a tragedy. He didn't deserve to be put down like that.
He'll be buried with full honors. It's the least I can do for him.
Katya stirs somewhere over eastern Europe. I watch her come back to herself slowly, rubbing her eyes. She pushes herselfup off my lap. She scans the room, getting a sense of her surroundings. Then she looks at me.
It takes her a minute to speak. I can almost hear the inner workings of her mind as she tries to decide how to approach what comes next.
"Did I make a fool of myself?" she asks.
“A fool of yourself?” Is she really worried about that? “No, of course not."
"It's just...." She emits a sound that's pure pain. "Santo."
"I know."
We sit in silence for a moment, each of us grappling with our emotions over his loss.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I ask her, not because I want to but because I know I should.
I'm selfishly glad when she shakes her head. "Some other time."
"Whenever you're ready."
She nods and smiles tremulously. "Did you wipe them all out?"
"Your father. Litkov. Most of their men." I pause. "Your mother escaped."
Katya lets out a laugh that has no humor in it. "Of course she did." She rubs her eyes and looks around again. "Where are we?"
"Damiano's plane."
"Oh." She raises an eyebrow. "You can't afford your own? Did I marry the poor relation?"
She's distracting herself from her pain and I let her because it's what she needs. I understand that more than most.
"I have a plane," I tell her. "My brother's is faster."
Katya nods. "I want to meet them." In case I don't understand who she's talking about, she adds, "Your brothers."
"You will. Later."
"No, now." She looks down at herself in the white dress and disgust moves across her face. "Is there a shower? I want to wash."
"There is."
