For me.
My chest tightens.
Why?
I’ve tried texting her. Calling her. Nothing ever went through. I thought—
I thought maybe—
No.
I don’t finish that thought.
The door opens again.
And there she is.
Sofia.
She looks different—tired, a little worn, worry etched into her face—but still her. Relief crashes into them so hard it almost knocks the breath out of me.
“Valeria—”
I don’t let her finish.
I launch myself at her.
She catches me instantly, arms wrapping tight around me like she’s afraid I’ll disappear if she loosens her grip.
And just like that, everything breaks.
The strength.
The control.
The careful walls I’ve been building since that night.
We both start crying.
Not quiet tears.
Not controlled.
Ugly, desperate, overwhelming sobs.
I bury my face in her shoulder, gripping her like she’s the only real thing left in my world.
“You’re here,” I choke. “You’re actually here—”
“Of course I am,” she cries back, holding me tighter. “Valeria, everything is a mess. I barely left Moscow alive. Anton came after me—after my family—and we had to flee. I had to come to America to stay with relatives. I arrived yesterday…and I knew I had to find you today. My relatives told me you were now with Timofey Rusnak.”
“Everyone knows?”
She nods. “Everyone knows. The Rusnaks are very popular and powerful. It’s in everyone’s best interest to keep up with them.”
That does it.
Something inside me cracks open all over again.
