Page 123 of Mile High Ruin

“Anya.”

The rabbit’s ear is nearly falling off, and one of Anya’s shoelaces is untied.

“You should fix that before you trip.”

She looks down. Then back at me. “You do it.”

Apparently we are already taking orders from each other.

I crouch and tie the lace. “Better?”

She inspects my work seriously. “Yes.”

“Glad I passed.”

She looks toward the house. “Uncle Vadim gives bad presents.”

That’s not what I expect.

“What kind of bad presents?”

“Big ones.”

I almost laugh. “That sounds terrible.”

“He bought me a horse.”

I blink. “A horse?”

“My mama said no.”

For some reason, that makes Vadim more understandable and less understandable at the same time. I picture him standing in some stable deciding a six-year-old needs a horse because moderation apparently doesn’t exist in his life.

“Did you want the horse?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m afraid I’m on your side.”

Anya smiles. It’s the first completely normal thing I’ve seen since arriving.

I look around the garden again, at the toys half-hidden beside the terrace, the small bicycle leaning against a wall, the chalk drawings near one set of steps.

I didn’t expect this. I didn’t expect children.

I didn’t expect evidence that ordinary family life exists inside a place guarded like a military compound.

Then a scream tears through the quiet so violently that every thought in my head disappears at once, the sound too raw and terrified to be mistaken for surprise, anger, or anything remotely harmless.

Anya freezes beside me with the stuffed rabbit clutched against her chest, and another blood-curdling scream comes from somewhere inside the house.

20

VADIM

I’m in the study, and the scream reaches me from the lower floor while Anton is still speaking. I stop listening before he finishes the sentence.

For one second, nobody in the room moves, because the sound is so out of place inside this house that it takes a moment to understand what we heard, and then I’m already walking toward the door.