Marble eyes—dead eyes—glare at me from the ground.This is all my fault. She knew it when she died. I know it now. Pavel is thinking it too. He’s not speaking, but I know what he’s going to do next.
He’s going to try to fix it. And I can’t stick around for that.
I toss my phone aside and pace toward the bathroom. Whatever is left in my stomach from yesterday threatens to come out. Do I even have the strength to throw up? I don’t want to find out. But I don’t think I have a choice.
I race to the bathroom. My muscles ache as I hug the toilet and pray for it all to be over soon. There’s not much left in my gut. My poor baby has suffered enough of this.
And I have, too.
Marble eyes. Dead eyes.
I whimper as I struggle to reach the sink. I bow over the counter and splash my face. I try to hang on to the cool water just like I did days ago, but it’s not working this time. Nothing can bring me back from that shock. Not even my selfish husband.
He’s not fighting for me anymore. I glance into the bedroom. He still hasn’t moved from the mattress.And he never will.
After shutting off the faucet, I dry my face and walk purposefully into the room. I drag a suitcase from the closet and start piling clothes into it. The mattress squeaks as Pavel stands up. He watches what I’m doing, hypnotized by the movements in a way—though I’m sure that’s just the grief taking hold.
He couldn’t let her go. I shove a T-shirt into the suitcase.Well, now he doesn’t have a choice anymore. Just like me.
Pavel clears his throat. “Liya, stop it.”
So soft, yet still commanding.
Once upon a time, that might have worked on me.
But not today.
“This has been nothing but a horror show since day one,” I explain. I march past him to grab a towel from the bathroom. “I mean, what else did I expect?”
“You didn’t expect this, Liya. Youcouldn’thave expected this.”
I toss the towel into the suitcase. Why bother folding it? I’m just going to shove everything together and race out the door. And then what? A hotel? Christ, this is a mess. And I made it all by myself.
I square my shoulders. I’m not taking his pity anymore. “You’re right. I expected better.”
“There was nothing we could have done.”
“She died alone. Humiliated. Abused. Scared. Do you really think we couldn’t have done anything about that?”
He stares at me for a long time. Not dumbstruck. Just tired.
Jesus, I’m tired too. I’m tired of clawing my way out of a pit that keeps filling up with water regardless of how much I drain it. I can’t take anymore. I have to get away.
For good.
“You can blame yourself all you want, but you know the truth. We could only do so much.”
“No, Pavel. We underestimated him. We assumed he didn’t have a guy on the inside.” I fold my arms. “No,Iassumed that. I didn’t do it right.” My lips tremble, and I close my eyes as I let out my shuddering confession. “I killed her.”
“No, Liya. No, you didn’t.” He shakes his head. “Felix killed her. Not you.”
After all this, he’s still trying to soothe me. He doesn’t seem to get it. It’s not just the fact that it’s Zoya who got killed. It’s the fact that even if I hadn’t married Pavel, this same situation would have happened.
A pretty girl would have been snatched up from somewhere, suffered the same fate, and then murdered.
Because of me.
Because I outlived my father and went on the run with my brother.