Chapter 4
RAISA
The next day after the Rafaels moved in next door, I was back at work, sweating out every drop of water I possessed.
This heat wave was too brutal to bear. It didn’t matter how often I schooled myself not to look at the clock because the minute hand moved so slowly, I was still drawn to checking the time.
It dragged. With the heavy burden of the heat and humidity, it trudged along.
Dreaming of an air-conditioner in this basement level wouldn’t fix anything.
Nor would trying to get another job. One of the “perks” about working here was that I was paid under the table. Everything was low-key and not completely legit. The fewer ways that existed for me to be found and tracked, the better.
Staying off the radar like this convinced me I was living like a criminal or a fugitive on the run. I wasn’t. I’d never done anything wrong. My “crime” was to love—fiercely and with all my heart. And this was the price I had to pay.
“See you soon.” My coworker flipped a switch on a washer to let it cycle down and have a break.
It was for that reason—needing to baby the machinery so it wouldn’t all crash and break down from overuse—that we humans were allotted a mid-day break as well.
European countries were kinder to grant leaves and breaks.
Unlike what I noticed in America, it wasn’t uncommon for longer breaks in the afternoon.
The other woman grabbed her purse off the hook on the wall and exited without waiting for me to reply or comment. Like me, she was too worn down from the heat and impatient for a reason to step out of this room.
“Yep,” I replied even though I was the last one out. “See ya.”
Speaking those few words took more energy than they should’ve.
I didn’t like to walk home for my breaks, but today, I just couldn’t stand another second in this uniform.
A dry one was waiting for me at home, hanging over a chair in my bedroom.
It wouldn’t stay dry. I’d sweat through it just like this one.
But it would be comfortable for a little bit, and that was something I’d prefer over this sweat-soaked dampness.
The trek back and forth from the hotel to the small house I rented wasn’t overly long.
Today, it was a lengthy journey I wasn’t sure I could complete.
Exhaustion set in the second I started walking.
This heat wave wasn’t playing around, and several times, I had to stop and catch my breath in the shade.
Under shop awnings and beneath the canopy of a tree, I’d lean against the solidest surface and wipe the sweat from my brow.
Placing one foot in front of the other wasn’t so simple anymore.
No.
This was something else.
I had never been this hot before. It was a fever, a wicked intensity of too much warmth.
Dizziness enveloped me as I fought to trudge home all while banking on returning. Overwhelmed from the physical strain, I sipped the last of the water in my bottle and heaved out a deep breath.
Almost there. Just keep going.
That was all I ever could do—plan to continue. To persevere and not give up in the face of any challenges. Because at the end of the day…
It is what it is.
So stuck on reaching the house, I felt exposed and vulnerable not to scan my surroundings. I wouldn’t ever willingly lower my guard, but as I walked on, I was lax in obsessively scoping out the area. All I could do was stare ahead and keep my eye on the goal.
At last, I staggered to the front door. It was strange to be here without Lev, but I didn’t plan to linger for long.
“Thank God that you are nice and cool at school,” I mumbled as I entered the house. Lev’s school buildings weren’t overly air-conditioned, but they were cooler with fans and updated amenities.
Inside, I didn’t waste time to strip out of my dirty uniform, take a quick, icy shower, then get dressed in my last uniform. Losing the confinement of clothing was heavenly. Embracing the cold spray of water was refreshing.
But when I pulled on my dry uniform, I was struck with a deep, nasty sense of unease.
A sixth sense was triggered.
Something had me jerky and tense. It came out of nowhere, this intense fear and dread that I couldn’t ignore or shake off.
Going still, I tugged my shirt on and scanned my room. Then, still unable to dispel this anxiety, I crept to the window and looked out.
Is someone watching me?
This wasn’t the first time I’d wondered that very thing. Earlier, when I reached my place of employment, this prickle of awareness had bothered me. It came when I was walking into the hotel to report to work, just after dropping off Lev at school.
With the hurry to clock in on time, I was distracted. It made it easier for that conviction to sink in and grab hold of me. But as I fell into the routine of working and being busy with my hands, those fears faded. No one showed up to see me. I was safe inside the walls of the basement.
No surprises popped up.
No threats appeared.
But now, alone in this small house, I was choked by that same freakish feeling.
My skin rose in goosebumps despite the heat. My lungs and heart reacted, working harder and faster like I’d just run a marathon.
Creeping toward the window, I used my pinky to slowly nudge the pleats of the curtains apart. Not enough to give away to anyone lurking outside that I was moving the fabric. Just enough to see through a slim slit.
I squinted, narrowing my eyes to sharpen my vision. All my senses were heightened, but it all looked the same. The same lawn. The same empty street. The same bird pecking at the grass in the corner.
“Stop. Just stop it,” I chided myself. It was just a whisper of admonishing myself, but it sounded so loud and clear in this solitude.
I backed up, shaking my head as if that would clear my frantic thoughts.
Why would someone be here?
Why now?
Knowing I didn’t have all the idle time in the world to dwell on this feeling or freak out any further, I retreated toward the kitchen. A glass of lemonade would do me well.
Frustrated with myself for feeling afraid of nothing—twice in one day—I furrowed my brow and grabbed a glass to fill it up with the sweet, tart, and sugary drink.
I’ve been here for three years now. Just me and Lev. No one’s come around.
I sipped the drink, determined to carry on with the refreshment.
No one’s here.
It’s just the heat getting to me. The heat and the hustle of working so much.
I sipped again, feeling better and less shaky.
Hell, maybe it was just hunger. And being thirsty.
It wouldn’t have been the first time that I neglected to eat and drink enough. Maybe that was it. Low blood sugar and pushing myself too hard during this heat wave. That was completely plausible.
Because no matter how I looked at it, it didn’t make sense why someone would come looking for me now.
After all these years…
“Stop.” I shook my head again and set my glass in the sink, ready to hurry back to work.
I couldn’t keep doing this, letting my fear get the best of me.
I was glad Lev wasn’t here to witness this freak-out and panic attack. I noticed how it wore on him when he saw me so worried.
It’s been years.
All that time and nothing had happened. No matter how long we went without an incident of being spotted, I’d stay diligent and aware.
I’d cut ties with my father. I’d severed all connections to him and the Mafia families I once knew. That was the old me. This was the new me, in the present, as a hardworking single mother to a wonderful boy.
It’s been years. No one’s coming.
I wanted to imprint that in my brain. I wanted to scream it to myself until the message stuck. I was as stubborn as they came, but the instant I set foot outside and pulled the heavy front door closed and locked behind me, it was back.
That tingle of being seen.
That vulnerable rawness of having nowhere to hide.
Once more, I reacted instinctively.
My pulse raced. My lungs couldn’t hold enough air. Dizzy again, I scoped the scene.
Someone is here.
This wasn’t a hunch. It was a fact.
Swallowing hard, I took careful, light steps off the front step to the house.
Someone’s been watching.
I was paranoid by nature, always looking over my shoulder. Old habits died hard, and with my past as a daughter of a Mafia family, I would always be cautious like this.
Stepping quietly and carefully along the front of my house, I kept my eyes wide open and alert.
Someone is near.
I rounded the corner to the house, peeking past the wall.
The second I turned my view back that way, in the direction of the neighbors’ house, I held my breath.
Maybe it’s just them. The Rafaels. That would make sense. They were new here, and I was still acclimating to new people in my proximity. That didn’t explain the suited man hurrying through their backyard, though. It wasn’t Mr. Rafael. It wasn’t anyone working on or inspecting their new residence.
It was a man much like the ones I’d been so familiar with as a daughter in the Petrov family.
A spy.
It wasn’t the heat. It wasn’t the dizziness from working too much and not eating enough.
Someone had been here watching.
“Fuck.” I whispered it with so much pent-up rage that I wanted to run and hide all over again. Right now. I fought the need to rush to Lev’s school and whisk him away at this instant.
All the peace and calm I’d found here in this hidden life I’d forged for us was gone. We were no longer safe here. That stranger stalking close by was proof that we couldn’t stay.
Fuck!
I didn’t know what changed.
I didn’t want to know why someone would be here now.
And I didn’t like how my first instinct was to wish that he were here to protect me.
Ivan would never be a part of my life again. He’d left without a word, without a care. That fateful day was burned into my memory, when he’d walked away with that celebrity, letting me realize he’d been unfaithful.
“Fuck him,” I whispered as I jogged to the street, seeking the familiarity of the busier roadway to get back to work, then to grab Lev from school at dismissal. I wanted to rush to him and get him now, but I had to be practical and not rash.
If someone was here at the house snooping, I couldn’t lure them to Lev’s school.
Obsessing over an escape plan prevented me from dwelling on fantastical and hopeless wishes of Ivan being here to help me.
He never would.
But maybe Kalina can help.
Keeping a careful eye on my path, and for anyone following me back to work, I wondered if reaching out to my distant cousin in New York could be smart.
It was clear that I had to leave. Fleeing was my only option.
But maybe this time, I could reach out to my cousin. Kalina hadn’t contacted me in years, but when I cut all ties with the family, I hadn’t gone so far as to cut ties with her.
Maybe she’d help.
Someone.
Just not the father of my son who I would die trying to keep safe.