Knowing I have our birth certificates and IDs brings me great relief. We don’t have passports, so good luck to Georgi taking us out of the country.
The thought gives me hope that he’ll just let us go, but I don’t hold my breath and return to the tub.
I finish Simi’s bath and get her dried off and dressed before finding her coloring book and crayons. “Color while Mama is busy.”
“Okay.” She lies down on her tummy and finds the page she wants.
While she’s focused on picking the right crayon, I quickly strip naked and climb into the tub. I hurry as fast as I possibly can, and when I clean between my legs, the revulsion that’s always beneath the surface threatens to overtake me.
For a dark moment, I’m dragged back to the torture chamber, remembering how Georgi fought against the shackles while I was degraded right in front of him.
That’s never happened before. It was always just Anton and me in the room.
“Mama,” Simi says, yanking me out of my nightmarish thoughts. “Look.”
She shoves the coloring book in front of my face, and it takes a second or two for my eyes to focus on the stickman figures she’s drawn. A larger one is holding a small one in a flying pose.
“It’s beautiful,milo moe.”
“Can I go show the prince?”
“No.” I shake my head and continue washing my body. “Give Mama a minute. We’ll go together.”
“Okay.”
She sits down right beside the tub and continues to draw while I lean back and wash my hair.
As fast as I can, I finish and grab a towel from the floor before getting up and drying myself off. I keep the towel around my body while I dig in the bags for clothes, and after getting dressed in a pair of black jeans, a T-shirt, and an old but warm sweater, I walk to the sink.
“Come,malka. Let’s brush our teeth.”
Simi gets up and walks to my side, then lifts her arms. Lifting her, I set her down on the counter. I didn’t see our toothbrushes in the bags, so grabbing the toothpaste, I put some on Simi’s finger and on my own.
“Brush like this,” I tell her before showing her what to do.
Every second I get with her is the most precious gift I’ve ever received, and I absorb it like a dry sponge.
Once we’ve rinsed our mouths, I brush her hair and braid the strands. While she continues to color in her book, I untangle my hair, then leave it loose so it can air-dry.
My gaze only touches on the mirror for a second, long enough to see the bruises on my face, before I ignore them again.
I return to our belongings and find a handbag. Putting our important papers inside, I zip it closed and place the strap sideways over my neck.
“Come,malka.”
Simi gathers her crayons and book and brings them to me. I put her crayons in my handbag and the book back in one of the trash bags. Tying them closed again, I rise to my feet and take Simi’s hand.
When I open the door, my child spots the cart with food and pulls free.
“Yay!”
Georgi gets up from where he’s sitting in the armchair, and I stare at him with parted lips as he walks toward the cart.
Wearing a black silk dress shirt, most of his bruises and wounds are covered. The top two buttons are undone, and even though he’s lost weight, the luxurious fabric still stretches over his muscles.
The shirt is paired with black chinos and leather loafers, and as I gape at him, I’m reminded of how dangerously attractive he is.
I forgot about it in the torture chamber and with everything that’s happened.
