The family I’ve been quietly building in my head, the one I let myself imagine like some foolish girl who still believes in happily-ever-afters, will be gone the moment I walk out of here with this in my hands.
But Milo is my son. And when it comes to your child, you do whatever you have to.
Just as I’m about to close the safe, something else catches my attention. A large yellow envelope sits tucked beneath the folders, the letterEscrawled across the corner in thick black Sharpie.
I don’t know why I reach for it. But my gut insists I look inside.
I set the ledger at my feet and pull the envelope free. It’s sealed with a simple metal clasp. My fingers fumble as I undo it, unease already creeping over my skin before I even pull out the first page.
At first, it looks like a deed. And for some reason, the second I see it, cold shoots through me so fast, it’s like ice water has been poured straight down my back.
My eyes move to the listed owner—Kirill Marinov—which isn’t shocking on its own.
Then…I see the address.
“Oh my God…”
I gape at it, reading it once, then again, my brain refusing to make sense of what is right in front of me.
It’s our house. The one my sister and I have been living in.
My vision goes in and out of focus. I flip to the next page, then the next, my breathing turning uneven as I scan signatures, transfer records, dates. Dates that line up far too neatly with the worst stretch of my life.
None of it makes sense. Why would he own my house? Why would he keep that from me? Why wouldn’t he say anything?
What the hell is going on?
My hands shake so badly, the deed slips from my fingers. It flutters to the floor, but I don’t even stop to pick it up.
Instead, I reach deeper into the envelope and pull out a stack of photographs. Of me.
“Oh my God.” The words scrape out of my throat as panic hits so hard it makes the room tilt.
These pictures are old. Years old. One is of me walking out of my old house in New York. Another catches me leaving a meeting with social services.
Another…another is of me with Eli.
Holy shit. What the hell is happening here?
My lungs tighten so hard, it’s like there isn’t enough air left in the room.
Who the hell is Kirill? And what the hell did I just do?
A hundred thoughts crash into me at once, each one worse than the last.
Is he working with Eli? Has this all been some twisted setup from the beginning? Some test? Have they been playing me together this whole time while I stood here like an idiot thinking I knew anything at all?
Tears burn behind my eyes as I start grabbing everything, shoving the photos back into the envelope. I need to get out of here. I need to get Milo and run before whatever this is swallows me whole.
I snatch up the ledger and shove it back into the safe, my hands scrambling through the folders as I try to put everything back the way it was, trying to remember what sat where, what angle the papers were at, what was on top of what.
But nothing looks right anymore. He’s going to know. If he doesn’t already.
My heartbeat grows wild, pounding so hard it makes me sick, nausea rising fast just as the door creaks open behind me.
Fuck.
Every muscle in my body locks. I can’t make myself turn around. It could be a guard. It could be?—
