Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
She looks over at Viktor. “You must find him.”
Viktor nods. “I know, Zofia.”
“You might even orchestrate a public break-up. Something bad. If he thinks he can take advantage, he will.” She shakes her head. “I’m sorry you even have to think about this.”
My mother releases a shuddering breath. “He is going to make his move. He’s likely planning it already. Do not let your guard down for a moment. He will attack, and soon.”
She coughs again, her entire body shaking. Vera gets on her feet and walks over to her, frowning. She waits until Mom stops coughing. “Who are you seeing? What do they say about this?”
“I saw a doctor at the local clinic. You know I don’t like to go to the doctor for these silly things.”
Vera frowns. “Did they give you any medication?”
“They did. It’s in the kitchen. But I swear, Vera, when I take it, the coughing only gets worse, and I feel terrible. It doesn’t help at all.”
“I’ll be right back,” she says, heading toward the kitchen.
“I’ll go with you.”
Viktor’s shadow looms behind me.
“I’m fine, Viktor.”
“I know you are.”
I turn and glare at him. “I want a moment of privacy with my sister, dammit.”
“This isn’t about limiting your privacy. You know that,” he scoffs. “I’ll stand behind to make sure you’re safe.”
We make it to the kitchen. I remember what it was like as a child. We had staff when my father was home, but when he traveled, my mother paid them all and gave them leave while the three of us took care of ourselves. We baked cookies and cakes. My mother’s Wuzetka, a layered chocolate cake with whipped cream and a chocolate glaze, was my absolute favorite, one of the few links to her Polish upbringing that remained.
“This is not normal, Lydia,” Vera says in a low voice. “This is not medication you give to someone with a cold or even bronchitis. It’s a drug you give someone with cancer.”
My blood runs cold. “What?” I whisper. “Are you sure?”
But this is her strength, her talent. Vera knows medical science front and back.
“I’m positive,” she says, shaking her head. “Lydia…”
“Why would she lie to us, though?”
“She doesn’t want us to know, I would guess. Maybe she wants to get you through the wedding.” She leans in and hugs me. I don’t even know what to say or what to do. Viktor stands nearby, but I don’t think he can hear what we’re saying. He’s staring out the window at our backyard, seemingly lost in thought.
“Alright, listen, we can’t make this right, not today. For now, we’re heading back in there, and we’re going to plan this wedding.”
But I don’t feel right about this anymore. I don’t feel right about anything.
I shake my head and raise my voice.
“No. I don’t want to talk about the wedding. I want to find Timur and be rid of him. I don’t want this hanging over my head any longer. I want this behind us.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry, Vera. I need a minute. Stay with Mom, and I’ll be back in soon.”
I shove open the back door and march into the yard. I can see Viktor behind me, following me.
I couldn’t stop him if I tried, so I let him. But I don’t make it easy on him.
We need to stage a public break-up.
Done.
How public do we need? If Timur is nearby or watching my mother’s home in any way, this should do just fine.
I walk with purpose back to the place I went as a child. If I close my eyes and remember, I can still see where I snuck between the pickets of the fence and got into the campground. I can still smell the campfires, the roasted marshmallows, sizzling hot dogs, and burgers.
I stare at the fence. It’s still dilapidated like it always was, only now it doesn’t seem I could fit through them. I walk up to one of the fence posts.
“Don’t even think about it, Lydia.”
Orchestrate a break-up. Orchestrate a break-up. I pour all my anger, my frustration, and my fear into my voice.
“Fuck off, Viktor. You can’t stop me. I want to be alone for a little while.” I turn around and face him, my fueled emotions real. “I know that’s a foreign concept to you, but I want you to fucking leave me alone.”
“Lydia,” he growls, but I can tell he’s wondering if I’m faking or if I’m serious. His brows snap together in concern, and he takes another step toward me. “I know we have to hash shit out, but this isn’t the time or place.”
I scoff. “So my mother’s place is? Yeah, let’s have a fight in front of her. Great idea.” I turn away and take another step toward the hole in the fence. Just beyond it, there’s a shadow of pine trees. It doesn’t look like there are many people there.