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Something cold crawls down my spine.
“Viktor.”
He looks at me.
“What did he do?”
For the first time since we walked into this office, the old man looks genuinely uncomfortable.
“He selected husbands for you.”
The clock ticking on the wall is the only sound in the office.
Somewhere outside, a phone rings.
Milana laughs hysterically, the sound of it grating in the silence. Her laugh dies. “You're serious?”
“Yes.”
Evaria stands. “I'm going to dig him back up.”
“Sit down,” Zhenya says.
“He can't do that.”
“He apparently already did.”
“Girls,” I snap.
They both stop, and I look at Viktor.
“Explain.”
“Each of you has been named a beneficiary of one fifth of the relevant estate. However, access to that inheritance is conditional upon marriage.”
“To men Papa chose?” Galana asks.
“Yes.”
“How long?” Zhenya asks.
Viktor looks at her. “Excuse me?”
“There's obviously a deadline. Papa loved deadlines.”
Viktor hesitates. “Thirty days.”
Evaria starts laughing this time. It's not a happy sound. “Thirty fucking days?” she sputters.
“From today.”
“Absolutely not.”
“What happens if we refuse?” I ask.
Viktor's expression tells me I'm not going to like the answer. “You forfeit your share.”
“To whom?”
