Page 123 of Nemesis

My father’s tanned skin has paled to a horrifying ashy color, and his green eyes flare as they struggle to remain open.

“Stay with me,” I whisper, gripping the gap between two buttons and tearing the shirt open.

“Are…are we…clear?” he chokes out.

“Yes! Yes, we’re clear, and help is on the way.”

My fingers tremble in terror as I look down at several shot wounds lodged in his chest.

He was blocking me from the gunfire.

“No,” I press down on the wounds as best I can. “We need a doctor! A-a-ambulance. Someone find me an ambulance!”

But a cool hand brushes mine through the blood.

“It’s okay, love.” The words are a rasp between wet coughs.

“No.” None of this is okay. “I just found you.” My fingers grip the fabric of his shirt as though I can physically tether his soul to mine. “We’ll get you to the hospital. They’ll patch you up.”

I can’t tell who I’m lying to. I just know it’s the only acceptable outcome.

I’ll take nothing less. This is just like all those times Vasiliy got thrown back into the cage after an interrogation. It looks really scary, but he’ll bounce back. He always bounced back.

“I’m so…” he coughs. More blood. I tilt him to his side, desperate to help clear his airway. Too many problems. Not enough time. “Proud of you…” His chest only grows damper beneath my fingers. “I’m glad…I played the long…game.”

“Stop!” I cry. “Don’t say that. Help is coming, Dad. We’ll get you hel⁠—”

He hushes me with a raspy sound.

His face blurs beneath my tears. I need him to fight!

“I…love you.” Another strained inhale. “More than…”

No. No! How dare he give up? I thought Siderovs were supposed to bend, not break! I’m about to start screaming in his face when his fingers squeeze my palm.

His sight stiffens, drifting somewhere behind me.

I wait for him to whisper something else. I wait for another cough or a choke.

But nothing comes.

I stay on the floor for a long time.

Minutes?

Hours, maybe.

The sun drifts down.

His eyes move.

No, they are moved.

I’m still clutching his hand when Alex kneels to shut his brother’s glassy eyes. A strangled noise leaves my throat as he does. I’m restless. My knees haven’t stopped bouncing since I learned that Vasiliy left.

Hours ago. That revelation came hours ago, in a different reality.

“Octavia?”