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“Half and half,” Katie said. “Some days are better than others, but at least she agreed to be here for the party.”
One of the brothers I’d already met—maybe Max—pulled her away to ask her a question, and I drifted off to a corner of the garden to catch my breath. This was already a lot; while everyone was nice, they were all larger than life. I felt like an outsider at my own sister’s party. Aunt Marjorie was due to arrive early the next morning, and I longed for her familiarpresence in this sea of strangers. Even Brooke, who was usually pretty shy, was deep in a conversation with someone over by the buffet.
Katie returned, towing a willowy blonde girl along with her, introducing her as her new sister-in-law, Mila. Mila was vivacious and dressed to the nines in something sleek and certainly designer. After her warm greeting, she turned to Katie, and Katie’s eyes clouded over.
“Um, can we talk to you for a little bit in private?” she asked.
Why was my sister being so cagey all of a sudden? My heart thudded in my chest. Did she somehow find out just how behind I was by calling the school? It would be like her to do something like that if she suspected I’d been hiding things from her, but she’d been so distracted by her new life I thought I was safe from meddling.
“Sure,” I said, wringing my hands as they led me to a quiet library.
Normally I would have thought a place with all that comfy leather furniture and walls of books was a dream sanctuary, but now it seemed like a judgment hall. I should have confessed earlier that I was on the verge of failing some of my classes and a breath away from losing my hard-fought scholarship.
There was still a chance I could pull everything together, and she’d told me not to worry about anything, so why was Katie dragging me from the party with such a grim look? And why the backup with Mila, who I’d just met? If I had to admit all my shortcomings, I would much rather it be without a stranger present.
Mila pulled up a chair as I sat on one of the couches near a window, in case I needed to jump out of it. My mind raced asKatie paced a few steps back and forth, knocking her shin on a coffee table.
“Come and sit down,” Mila urged her. “And let’s get through this.”
So Mila already knew what it was about. She looked serious but not as anxious as Katie. Katie looked like she might throw up.
“What’s going on?” I demanded, no longer thinking this had to do with my situation.
“There’s actually one more secret I’ve been keeping from you,” she confessed, easing onto the edge of the couch.
Mila asked if I’d ever heard the word Bratva before. I shrugged. “I’m assuming it’s Russian.”
The Fokin siblings were first-generation Americans and very proud of it, but obviously still very steeped in their parents’ motherland’s traditions. The buffet was packed with foods I’d never seen before, but with the way they were looking at me, any appetite I had left after worrying about my own problems was waning.
I listened in silence as Mila launched into the history of what her family—now Katie’s family—did for a living. And the more she talked, the more Katie’s color drained out of her cheeks. I was sure I was as red as a fire engine by the time she was done laying it all out on the line.
“I didn’t know either, at first,” Katie rushed to say.
“But you’re fine with it now?”
How could she be? Didn’t she remember the shame we had to go through after our father’s criminal ways came to light? It was why we lost everything after our parents’ crash. It turned out all our wealth was dirty. He was nothing more thana swindler, and everything we owned was either repossessed or eaten up from reparations to his victims.
“Are you kidding me?” My voice was no longer calm, and I jumped up, my fists clenching. “After Aunt Marjorie uprooted her life to save us because of what Dad did, after you worked all those part-time jobs so we could keep a roof over our heads? You’re suddenly perfectly fine with living with another criminal?”
Katie looked like she might puke but straightened up at me, calling Aleks a name. “I’m married to him,” she said stiffly. “I love him. You just need to understand.”
Mila said something I was too angry to hear correctly. Something about tradition that made me snort with disgust. “Does Aunt Marjorie know? Is she fine with this?”
We’d never really known our aunt because she’d cut her brother off from her life for some reason. She always sent us birthday gifts and called on all the holidays, but try as our mother might, she could never get Aunt Marjorie to speak to my dad. After it was revealed he was a criminal, we figured out she must have known all along and didn’t approve of his choices or didn’t want to get caught up in it. Because of her, we didn’t end up in foster care. After learning about Brooke’s experiences in the system only made me appreciate my aunt more.
She was there for us the second we needed someone, and had always instilled in us that there was no easy way to make it in life. No shortcuts. She despised crime and dishonesty of all flavors, and Katie—old Katie—took after her wholeheartedly. Until she got dazzled by a handsome face and boatloads of money. She remained silent.
“Well?” I pushed.
“I haven’t told her yet,” Katie admitted.
“That says a lot right there.” I crossed my arms and stared daggers at her.
“But I’m going to tell her right after Christmas. I’m done with secrets. They nearly got me killed.”
Oh, boy, this was new, and I didn’t want to hear the details, certain they’d make my head explode with rage.
“If you nearly got killed, didn’t it ever occur to you that your husband being in theBratvamight have actually been the reason?” I spit the word, then shook my head. “Does calling it something different make it easier to accept what it is? The mafia? Organized crime?”
