Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Kira
Two days pass in this strange bubble where everything feels quieter than it should.
Artyom works when he has to, disappearing into calls and meetings with that intense focus he switches on like a weapon, and when he’s done, he finds me wherever I am—on the couch, in his kitchen, sitting with Calina and Milana—pulling me into whatever he’s doing as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
We don’t fight. We don’t talk about the attack or the wedding or anything heavy. We just… exist around each other, closer than before, the tension still there but settled into something warmer, something that somehow makes it harder to breathe.
By the second evening, I can’t lie to myself anymore.
I miss work. I miss the routine. I miss not thinking about danger every minute of the day, and even though Artyom doesn’t say anything, I can tell he knows I’m restless, so when I tell him I’m going back in the morning, he only studies me for a second before nodding, like he was waiting for me to say it.
Now it’s my first day back, and it feels strangely grounding to slip into scrubs again and step outside on my own.
But the calm lasts only a few minutes, because halfway down the block I glance over my shoulder and see an SUV behind me, slow and steady, keeping the same distance every time I turn a corner.
It’s not the one Artyom showed me. It’s a different make, different feel.
A cold rush moves through my stomach. Maybe it’s nothing, maybe it’s someone who happens to be going the same way, maybe I’m paranoid after everything that’s happened, but my body reacts instantly, my steps speed up, my hands feel tight, and I keep my head forward so whoever’s inside can’t see my face.
By the time I push through the hospital doors, my pulse is too fast, and the familiar smell of disinfectant hits me like a wave of relief. The noise, the people, the fluorescent lights—none of it ever felt comforting before, but right now it does.
The moment I step inside, I spot Lilly down the hall, flipping through a chart with her usual annoyed concentration. She looks up, sees me, and her whole expression brightens in that immediate, genuine way only she can manage.
“Oh my God,” she says the second she spots me, her eyes going wide as she practically speed-walks down the hall, “you’re finally back.”
Before I can answer, she wraps her arms around me in a tight hug, the kind that knocks the air out of my lungs a little because I didn’t realize how much I needed it until it happened.
I stand there stiff for a moment, still carrying the tension from outside, then I let myself exhale and hug her back, my shoulders finally dropping in a way they haven’t in days.
“I missed you, too,” I say, trying to sound normal even though my voice comes out softer than I expect. “Sorry I disappeared. Things were… complicated.”
She pulls back just enough to look at me, her hands still on my arms like she’s checking if I’m really standing in front of her. “Yeah. No kidding. You look like you haven’t slept in a month.”
“I’m fine,” I lie automatically. “Really.”
She doesn’t buy it—her eyebrows lift, and she gives me this look like she’s two seconds away from interrogating me right there in the hallway with patients walking past—but instead she grabs my wrist and pulls me toward a quieter corner near the supply room.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she says, her voice dropping as she glances around. “Your brother was here. Two days ago.”
My whole body goes cold so fast it almost feels like the floor tilts. “What? Did he—did he say anything?”
She nods, reaching into her pocket. “He left this.”
She presses a folded note into my hand, and the second my fingers close around it, they start to shake. I swallow hard, my breath catching in my throat as I force myself to open it.
Kira,
I need to see you. Don’t tell anyone.
I’ll reach out again with a place and time.
Please.
—L
My breath catches. Lilly studies my face closely, worry rising in her eyes.
“Kira… what’s going on?”
And maybe it’s because she’s the only friend I have left, or because I’ve been carrying too much alone, or because everything in my life feels like it’s balancing on a knife’s edge—but I tell her everything.
By the time I finish, Lilly sinks down onto the nearest chair like her legs just stopped working, her eyes locked on me as if she’s trying to figure out whether I’m actually standing there or if she hallucinated the whole story.
“Kira… this is—this is insane.” Her voice cracks on the last word, and she presses a hand to her forehead like she’s trying to push the information back into place.
“I know.” I wrap my arms around myself, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, feeling exposed now that I’ve said it all out loud.
“What are you going to do?” she asks, leaning forward, elbows on her knees, worry tightening her whole face.
“I need to see him,” I whisper, staring down at my hands because it’s easier than looking her in the eyes. “I need to know he’s okay.”
“Kira, Artyom will kill him,” she says, her voice rising a little as she grabs my wrist, squeezing like she’s trying to anchor me to common sense.
I swallow hard, my throat tight, and nod. “I know.”
We both go quiet for a moment, the kind of silence that feels heavy and frantic at the same time. Then we start talking in low, rushed voices, putting together something that barely qualifies as a plan—something stupid and dangerous, but it’s the only thing that makes sense to me in that moment.
By midday my phone buzzes while I’m stocking supplies in the medication room, and the second I see Lucas’s name on the screen my stomach drops hard.
It’s a short message, nothing emotional, or reassuring—just a time and a place, both of them chosen with the kind of care that tells me he’s scared enough not to waste words.
I stand there for a moment staring at the screen, feeling my pulse climb higher and higher until it’s all I can hear, because now it’s real, now there’s no turning back, even if every part of me is screaming to stop.
I delete the message immediately, like muscle memory.
When the time comes, I sneak out early from work—something I never do—telling the head nurse I’m not feeling well, keeping my face as neutral as possible so no one suspects anything. As soon as I step outside, the air cold against my skin, I pull out my phone and call Artyom.
“I got held up,” I tell him, trying to sound casual even though my voice feels too tight. “I’ll be home a bit later.”
“Held up by what?” I hear the surprise in his voice. “Are you okay?”
God, why does he need to know everything.
“Yes, yes. It’s just work,” I say after a short hesitation. “It’s nothing. I just—I’ll be late.”
There’s a pause on the other end, a pause that tells me he doesn’t fully buy it, but he lets it go.
“All right,” he finally says, though his tone is suspicious. “Come home soon.”
I hang up and the weight of what I’ve just done hits me all at once, settling low in my stomach in a way that makes it hard to breathe, because the lie, the risk, the fear twisting through me, and the knowledge that this choice could break everything between us all hit at the same time, piling on top of each other until I’m not sure which feeling is worse.
But I keep moving, because Lucas is my brother and I can’t just abandon him, not after everything we’ve been through, no matter how dangerous Artyom is or how much he expects obedience.
I’m not ready to let him decide the fate of the only family I have left.
I walk toward the meeting place Lucas texted me earlier, with my heart lodged somewhere in my throat, my palms slick inside my pockets as I try to look normal, each step feeling like a countdown toward something I can’t predict or control, something that feels bigger than me, like fate tightening around my ribs with every block I cross.
I know I’m in too deep with Artyom, and I know I’m in too deep with Lucas, and the truth is I’m in too deep with everything, way past the point where I can untangle any of it cleanly.
As I cross the street, the sun dipping behind the buildings and stretching long shadows across the pavement, that familiar dread washes over me again—the one that makes it feel like the ground is shifting right under my feet and that nothing, absolutely nothing in my life, will ever be the same again.