Page 12 of The Breath Before Forever

“Bullshit.” But it was midday, mid-week, and that truly said something. Hannah didn’t particularly have a lot to do in Moscow at the moment, but she also had practically no responsibilities. Vera couldn’t help but think her friend might be taking advantage of both those things. As she should. “Were you out last night?”

Hannah’s muffled laugh crackled through the speakers. “Who’s nosy now?”

“Shut up.”

They were both terrible.

It was what it was.

Hannah sighed, then, admitting, “I did go out—he was here when I got back. Stayed later than he promised this time, too.”

Vera’s eyebrows shot high. There was only one possible he that she knew about in Hannah’s life at the moment. “Who—Igor?”

Another groan was Hannah’s only reply.

That wasn’t enough for Vera.

“Are you serious?” she asked her friend in a rush despite trying to tamper her tone.

While she’d closed the connected doorway to the stairwell that led up to their private rooms, the man could sometimes hear a water drop falling from a tap at the other side of the house when the sharp sensitivity came in to torture his pain a little more.

“And you didn’t call to tell me—wait,” Vera said, stopping mid-sentence when she realized the more important thing Hannah had said. “This time? When did it happen the first time?”

“You’re too loud when I’ve just woken up.”

“It’s practically two!”

Hannah hemmed and hawed a while longer before muttering, “The night of your wedding, okay?”

Right.

Vera could have guessed.

So it brought her right back to the first thing she’d asked Hannah which was now more like a joking accusation. “And you didn’t even call me.”

Hannah’s soft, tired laugh told her friend they both knew that neither was all that mad. “It hasn’t even been a full week since you got married. I was trying to let you have time with your husband.”

Fair enough.

“But I also need time with you,” Vera said. “We should do that. Soon.”

That perked Hannah’s interest.

“How soon?”

“What are you doing this weekend?”

“Not much,” Hannah deadpanned, but she didn’t offer anything more to explain the change in her tone. Vera opted not to push.

She also chose not to mention the paperwork for a recent wire transfer that had been paid to a facility in the city that she found on Vaslav’s desk while chatting with her friend. He had a bad habit of letting private documents lay around where it could easily be found if someone was looking. Or more concerningly, it was a sign that Vaslav was having trouble remembering certain short-term memory things.

Vera would put the transfer invoice away, but she wouldn’t deny that she had also been looking for something like it when she stumbled on it, too. The call with her friend had simply been a justifiable excuse to wander mostly alone. If he found out, and asked.

It wasn’t a hospital, like Mira had said. Not according to the invoice. The facility currently housing Vaslav’s ill mother dealt more in psychiatrics. In fact, it’s name was Roseville Facility of Psychiatrics. While Vera had not called the number for the facility yet, she planned to.

“The better question,” Hannah said, drawing Vera back into the conversation, “what are you doing this weekend?”

“Pretty sure I’m coming to visit you.”