“Who’s in there?”
“The usual suspects.”
She means Stepan. “Are they busy?”
“Yeah.” She arches one brow. The expression looks soPavelthat fear flashes in my solar plexus. “Why?”
I chafe my arm. “I was going to get something from Willow.” Lying to Karina is easy. The words roll right off my tongue.
I’m not sure I like it, even though it works in my favor.
“Do you need a ride?” she asks.
I swallow the lump in my throat.I’ve been caught red-handed.
Karina glances back at the sunroom. Her eyes glisten from the light spilling into the foyer. She’s so quiet, so pensive, that it almost sends me running back up to my bedroom. Or as I’ve recently started to think of it: my tower.
And then she smiles at me. “Well, whenever you leave, stay safe.”
My whole body relaxes at once. Karina doesn’t suspect a thing. And I don’t know how bad I should feel about that.
She has been nothing but kind to me. She took me shopping for my wedding dress and allowed my best friend to join us. She’s taken my side when it’s been reasonable. She’s given me valuable insight into her brother’s strange and confusing behavior. Above all else, she’s given me a shoulder to cry on. She’s given me the kind of love I always wanted from a sibling.
I fight the urge to cry.I’m going to miss her so much.
I wrap her in a hug. She stiffens for a second, caught off-guard by the abrupt gesture.
But then she embraces me.
“I know things have been tough,” Karina whispers. “But you’re tougher, Liya. Don’t forget that.”
I nod and hold her closer, savoring this final memory. This will be all I have of her for the rest of our lives.
This moment—not our lunches on the porch or our tea dates with her brother. Just this hug. Just these words. And the acrid scent of cigars that occasionally waft over from the sunroom.
But no matter how sweet it feels, how comforting it is to know that she cares about me, I can’t help how my thoughts drift.
It shouldn’t be Karina that I’m holding. It should be someone else. I bury my face in her shoulder.
It should be Pavel.
“You stay safe too,” I say abruptly as I break the hug. “It gets scary at night.”
She waves away the warning. “I’m used to this place.”
I force a smile and drift past her to the kitchen.That was a close one.
My phone lights up with a notification. “I found a cheap Airbnb in Conifer, Oregon.”
Oregon…My heart skips a beat. Will that be far enough? The feeling of finality closes in. “Great. Can you scoop me up soon?”
“Sure thing, girl. Pack light. It’ll take a couple of days.”
“Bring cash. We can’t afford to leave a trail.”
“I’ll avoid tolls so we can’t be tracked.”
“Don’t forget the cameras at gas stations, too.”