Chapter 25 Bella
BELLA
I can barely eat anything. The plate Nikolai brought is still mostly full, the food gone cold. The doctors have already done their last round, handed over discharge papers, explained meds and follow-up visits. We are cleared to go.
I don’t feel cleared for anything.
Outside the window the sky has gone dark, that deep blue that looks almost black. The hospital lights in the parking lot are little yellowish circles on wet pavement.
The door opens and Aleksander steps in. He looks like he hasn’t sat down once all day.
“I’ve packed up everything,” he says. “Your things are in the car.”
I nod. The nurse helped me out of the hospital gown earlier and into my own clothes. Jeans, soft sweater, sneakers. Lily is in clean pajamas, half-awake, half-floppy against the pillow.
I swing my legs off the bed and stand, a little lightheaded. Something feels off. I look around the room, scanning the chairs, the corner, the window ledge.
“What are you looking for?” he asks.
“Lily’s bunny,” I say. “She freaks out without it.”
At the sound of “bunny,” Lily’s eyes crack open, her head turning toward us. “Bunny?” she mumbles, already frowning.
I move to the other side of her bed, pulling the blanket back, checking under her pillow, then under the bed. Nothing. My chest tightens.
“It was here,” I say. “She had it when we came in. I remember.”
Aleksander’s gaze moves around the room. “Maybe the nurse moved it when they changed the sheets.”
I shake my head. “I had it in the chair when she took her for tests. I put it back in the bed after.” I open the little cupboard, even check the bathroom, like it might have walked in there on its own.
“Bunny,” Lily says again, voice wobbling now. Her bottom lip starts to tremble.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I tell her, forcing a smile. “We’ll find him.”
I look at Aleksander. “Did you pack it with our things?”
He shakes his head once. “I only packed what was in your closet and bathroom. I didn’t touch this room.”
The unease from earlier creeps back in, stronger. There’s something about a missing toy that feels wrong in a way I can’t explain.
“It has to be here,” I say. “She can’t travel without it. She won’t sleep.”
“Maybe Nikolai’s seen it?” I say, more to myself than anyone.
Aleksander pulls out his phone and sends a quick text. A minute later, Nikolai appears in the doorway, broad shoulders filling the frame.
“You called?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I say. “Lily’s bunny. Have you seen it? It’s small, brown, one ear is a little torn. She had it here.”
He glances at the bed, at Lily’s tearful face, then around the room. “No,” he says. “I haven’t touched anything in here.”
“You’re sure?” I press. “Maybe when you brought the food, or my coat—”
“No,” he repeats. “I would remember a toy. Sorry.”
That same feeling hits me again, like a word on the tip of my tongue. Something is wrong. I’m forgetting something important. It brushes the edge of my mind and slips away before I can grab it.
“Bunny,” Lily whimpers, and then the whimper turns into a full-on cry. “I want Bunny! Mommy, I want him!”
My heart squeezes. My brain is still in survival mode, trying to solve everything at once, and I have nothing left for this. “Hey, hey, baby, it’s okay,” I say, reaching for her, but she only cries harder, face crumpling. “We’ll find him, I promise—”
She kicks the blanket, little hands balled into fists. The IV line trembles. Panic spikes in my chest. “Lily, careful—”
“Lily,” Aleksander says, his voice low but firm.
She hiccups, the sound catching, but doesn’t stop.
He steps in closer, gently shifting me to the side. He leans over her bed, one hand braced on the rail, the other smoothing her hair back from her damp face.
“Malishka,” he says, softer now. “Hey. Look at me.”
It takes a second, but she does. Red eyes, wet lashes, bottom lip still shaking.
“The bunny is just hiding,” he tells her. “You know how he is. Always playing games.” His voice is calm, certain, like this is a fact, not a guess. “We will catch him. But you know what he doesn’t like?”
She sniffles. “What?”
“He doesn’t like it when you cry,” Aleksander says. “He gets scared. And then he hides more. So we have to be brave, da? Show him we are not scared. Then he comes back.”
Lily sniffles again, breathing unevenly, but the crying has stopped. “He’s scared?” she whispers.
“Very scared,” Aleksander says seriously. “He needs you to be strong so he knows where to come.”
She thinks about this, small brows drawn together. “Like…like when I was sick,” she says.
“Exactly,” he says. “You were very strong. Remember?”
She nods, a little shaky but calmer now.
“If you want,” he adds, “I can carry you. And you can tell Bunny in your head that you’re not mad. That you’re waiting.”
She nods again, more firmly this time, and lifts her arms. He scoops her up like it’s the easiest thing in the world, settling her on his hip, her head dropping onto his shoulder. Her fingers curl into his shirt, her breathing already starting to slow.
I watch the whole thing, useless plate of food still in my hands, my heart doing something painful and soft at the same time.
He calmed her in under a minute.
To anyone passing by, it probably looks completely normal—dad settling his kid down before a car ride.
To me, it feels like watching something I didn’t know I’d been starving for.
He turns to me, one arm holding Lily, the other reaching for my bag. “We should go,” he says quietly.
I nod, still looking at him, at them.
I thought I couldn’t love him more than I already did.
I might have been wrong.
The drive feels longer than it probably is.
Lily falls asleep against my shoulder in the back seat, thumb tucked near her mouth, breathing soft and even. I keep one arm around her, the other hand pressed flat against my knee to hide the shaking.
We leave the city lights behind and turn down a narrow road. No big terminal, no glowing signs. Just a tall fence, a gate, and a couple of low buildings with a few scattered lights. A small private airport, quiet and almost empty.
The car stops near a hangar. I can see a jet on the tarmac, smaller than a commercial plane, sleek and waiting.
I swallow. “Where are you taking me?” I ask.
Aleksander gets out first, says something low to the driver, then opens my door and takes the bag from my hand. He looks tired, but his eyes are steady.
“Wherever you want,” he says.
I blink. “What do you mean?”
“You wanted to disappear, remember?” His mouth twitches, not quite a smile. “I’m giving you that.”
He shifts his weight, glances toward the jet, then back at me. “I’ve transferred a substantial amount of funds into your account,” he says. “More than enough. You can do whatever you want with it. New name, new country, new life. No strings.”
“Where does the plane go?” I manage.
“Canada,” he says. “From there, you can fly anywhere you choose. Separate booking, under whatever name you want. I won’t know where you end up.”
I hug Lily a little tighter. She stirs, mumbling into my shoulder, then settles again.
“So that’s it?” I ask quietly. “You drop us off and…that’s it?”
“That’s me keeping my word,” he says. His voice is calm, but his jaw is tight. “You and Lily out of my mother’s reach. Out of this mess. With enough money that you never have to look over your shoulder again unless you choose to.”
All I can think is: I don’t want to walk up that staircase without him.
“I don’t even know where I’d go,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
He looks at me for a long moment. “Anywhere that isn’t here is an improvement,” he says. “Someplace quiet. Cold, maybe. Lily would like snow.”
The way he says it makes my throat close. Like he’s picturing it and already knows he won’t be there.
He nods toward the jet. “The crew is vetted. They don’t ask questions. Once you land, you’re free. No one is waiting for you on the other side.”
Free.
I adjust Lily in my arms, her small fingers tightening in my sweater even in sleep. There’s a nagging sensation in the back of my mind—something missing, something I forgot—but I can’t drag it forward. Bunny. The hospital room. Nikolai’s limp. It all blurs.
“Bella,” Aleksander says softly.
I look up.
“This is the only way I know to keep you safe,” he says. “You don’t owe me anything. You don’t have to wait for me. You don’t have to think about me at all, if that’s what you want.”
“That’s not how it works,” I say, and my voice cracks.
For a second, the mask slips. Just a second. His eyes go dark and pained, like he wants to say something and bites it back.
Then it’s gone again. He straightens a little. “They’re ready for you,” he says. “I’ll walk you to the stairs.”
I nod, even though my legs feel like they might give out. I shift Lily to my hip and take a step forward, toward the plane, toward everything I said I wanted.
Away from him.
“I need to pee,” Lily mumbles against my shoulder, voice small and sleepy.
I stop walking. We’re halfway to the stairs of the plane. The crew is waiting. Aleksander is a step ahead, talking quietly to a man in a reflective vest. At Lily’s words, he turns, eyes immediately going to her.
“She needs the bathroom,” I say.
I can see the flicker of anxiety in his face. Every delay is a risk and we both know it. He looks toward the little building by the fence, the one with a couple of lit windows and a faded “Terminal” sign. Then he looks back at us.
“Quick,” he says. “I’ll wait here. Text me if anything feels wrong.”
I nod. He reaches out and squeezes my wrist once, like a tether, then lets go.
Inside, the “terminal” is basically a glorified waiting room and a corridor with a couple of doors. The bathroom is single-stall, private, too quiet. I lock the door behind us and the click makes my stomach jump.
“Can you do it by yourself?” I ask Lily gently.
She nods, rubbing her eyes. “Uh-huh.”
I help her with her pajamas and set her on the little toilet, then step back to give her space, keeping my body between her and the door without even thinking about it.
The tiles are the same kind of cold off-white as the hospital. The mirror is a little cloudy. The sink drips, slow and steady.
My hands start to shake.
Bathroom. Bright light. Someone behind me in the mirror.
“Hey,” I hear myself say in my head. “What a coincidence.”
Elena’s smile.
Then pain. Black.
I grip the edge of the sink and force myself to breathe.
“Mommy?” Lily says, voice echoing a little.
“I’m here, baby,” I manage. “You okay?”
“Done,” she says. “Can you wipe?”
I do, hands still unsteady, and help her wash her hands at the sink. The water is lukewarm. She plays with the soap bubbles like everything is normal.
I stare at our reflections in the mirror. Me, pale and jumpy. Her, small and trusting.
Flashes start to push through, sharp and quick.
Not the hit to the head—that part is just white and noise. After.
Rolling. The sensation of movement under me, wheels bumping over a threshold. My body slumped, too heavy. The smell of air outside, colder. A mask over my face. I couldn’t move my arms.
Elena’s voice, close to my ear. “It’s fine. They’re expecting us.”
Another voice answers. Deeper. Male. “Hurry up. We don’t have long.”
Lily tugs my sleeve. “Mommy, your hands are shaking.”
“I’m okay,” I lie.
More fragments.
Someone lifting my arm carelessly, like they’re checking how out of it I am. A hand on the wheelchair handle that doesn’t feel like Elena’s—bigger, rougher. I remember the sound of a grunt when the chair hit a crack in the pavement. A muttered curse in Russian that wasn’t hers.
“Watch it,” the man hissed.
Lily’s bunny.
I see it in my head suddenly, clear as a photo. Sitting in my lap when we came into the ER. Then later, in the corner of my vision as the chair moved.
My heart pounds. Nikolai, wincing, “banging his leg on the stairs.” His easy lie about my purse. The way he said he hadn’t touched anything in the room, when I know the bunny was there.
Was Elena alone?
No. She wasn’t.
“Mommy?”
I realize I’ve gone still, staring into space.
“Sorry,” I say. I force a smile. “All done. Let’s go, okay?”
I dry Lily’s hands, then mine, and unlock the door.
The door swings open just as I’m reaching for the handle.
I jump so hard my heart nearly stops.
Selene is standing there.
She grabs my arm and pushes me back inside, nudging the door shut with her hip. Lily stumbles a little and I pull her behind me on reflex.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss.
“Shh.” Selene locks the door and leans against it, breathing a little fast. “Things are about to go to shit out there.”
“I have to get to Aleksander,” I say. My voice is shaking. “I have to tell him—”
“Tell him what?” she cuts in, frowning.
“It was Nikolai,” I blurt. The words rush out before I can second-guess them. “He was with her. Yesterday. After Elena knocked me out, there was a man with her. I didn’t see his face, but I heard him. He was bleeding. I stabbed someone last night and it wasn’t Elena.”
Selene’s eyes sharpen. “You’re sure?”
“Male blood on the knife, remember? And today he’s limping, saying he ‘banged his leg on the stairs,’ acting like he hasn’t touched anything, but Lily’s bunny is gone and he’s the only one who had reason to go through our stuff.” My voice rises. “He was there with her, Selene. I know it.”
She processes that fast. “Okay. That still doesn’t mean he killed Kirov.”
I shake my head. “Think about it,” I say.
“He knew all Aleksander’s movements. He was on that flight.
He had access to the cabin, to me, to Kirov.
He could’ve gone up when everyone was sleeping.
He’s been at Aleksander’s side for years.
If someone wanted to set Aleksander up or keep eyes on him for Irina, who better than the guy he trusts the most? ”
I swallow, my throat tight. “I think it was Nikolai who killed Kirov.”