Chapter 29
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Anna
At six in the morning, I stood outside Yekaterina's apartment door, holding a sleeping Sofia.
The cold bit into my skin like needles, though I couldn't tell if it was from the dawn chill or the ice spreading through my chest. My finger hovered over the doorbell, unable to press it.
Could I really drag Yekaterina into this?
What if something happened to her because of me. ..
Finally, my fear for Sofia's safety won out. I pressed the bell, my heart hammering against my ribs.
Shuffling footsteps came from inside, followed by a muffled grumble. The door opened to reveal Yekaterina with wild blonde curls, wearing an oversized Mickey Mouse pajama shirt that made her look like a college freshman. She rubbed her eyes sleepily.
"Who is it... this early..."
But when she saw me—disheveled, holding a child, tear tracks still fresh on my face, eyes wild with panic—she snapped awake instantly.
"Jesus Christ! Anna?!" she gasped, the last traces of sleep vanishing. She immediately stepped aside. "Get in here! It's freezing out there! What the hell happened to you?"
I stepped into her warm little apartment with Sofia, the familiar lavender scent wrapping around me and loosening my tightly wound nerves just a fraction. Yekaterina quickly shut and locked the door, then turned back to me, gripping my arms, her eyes searching my face.
"Anna, tell me what happened," she said urgently, voice low. "Did that bastard hurt you?"
My throat constricted, fresh tears threatening to spill. I held Sofia tighter.
"Katya, we need somewhere to hide," my voice came out thick and nasal. "Just for a few days... I don't want to drag you into this, but I don't know where else to go..."
Without hesitation, Yekaterina moved to my side and gently took Sofia from my arms. She carried her to the living room, carefully settling her on the couch and tucking a soft wool blanket around her small form.
Sofia frowned in her sleep, smacking her lips slightly, but didn't wake. The night's chaos and fear had been too much for a five-year-old.
"Now sit," Yekaterina guided me to the other end of the couch. "I'm making you something hot. You look ready to collapse. Then you can tell me everything."
I sat watching Sofia's sleeping face. Even in dreams, her brow was furrowed, tiny hands clutching the blanket. When we'd left the manor, she kept asking why we had to get up so early, why we couldn't wait for "Alex." I could only tell her this was a secret adventure, like her favorite fairy tales.
Yekaterina returned with two steaming cups of tea, pressing one into my frozen hands.
The warmth seeped through the ceramic, chasing away some of the numbness in my fingers.
I clutched the mug like a lifeline and tried to organize my jumbled thoughts, explaining as simply as possible—Alexander's hidden identity as a Pakhan, the constant threats, Tatyana moving in, and last night's fight that finally broke me.
I left out the bloody details, just emphasized that I no longer felt the house was safe for Sofia.
When I finished, Yekaterina stayed silent for a long time.
Her pretty eyebrows knitted together, fingers unconsciously tapping the cup.
"I knew it!" she finally exploded, voice filled with vindicated anger.
"Mob bosses are all the same! My family did business with him once—nearly gave my dad a heart attack!
Who brings that many bodyguards to a business meeting?
All of them with killer eyes! I should've warned you to stay away from him!
" She got more agitated, slamming down her cup.
"So now he's choosing his ex over you and Sofia? "
"I don't know, Katya," I shook my head wearily, feeling like my heart had a gaping hole with cold wind rushing through it. "All I know is that every second in that house, I felt like I was suffocating. I couldn't let Sofia stay in that environment anymore."
"You did the right thing!" Yekaterina said firmly, squeezing my hand with warm, strong fingers. "Leaving that kind of man was the right choice! Safety first! You and Sofia stay here as long as you need. I'd like to see who's got the balls to mess with you here!"
Her fierce loyalty was like a small but steady light cutting through the storm clouds in my world.
"Thank you, Katya. I don't know how to thank you. You've helped me so much over the years..."
"Stop! Don't!" Yekaterina held up a finger, cutting me off. She tried to look stern but her eyes were getting red too. "Anna Parker, you're talking about 'trouble'? Did you forget high school?"
"I got my lunch money stolen by those punks every day. And you—skinnier than me—kept stepping in front of me, arguing with them, even fighting them."
She gently poked my chest, completely serious.
"From that day on, I, Yekaterina Ivanova, swore I'd be your friend for life.
Not just any friend—the kind who'll always be on your side, who'll take a bullet for you, who'll be your backup forever.
So now it's my turn to protect you and Sofia.
Don't you dare say 'thank you' to me again. We had a deal!"
Her words carried the weight of youth and years of friendship, like the warmest flood breaking through my last defenses. I couldn't hold back anymore. I reached out and hugged her tight.
"I hear you..." I sobbed into her shoulder. "Katya, we're friends for life."
For the next two days, we hid in Yekaterina's apartment like ostriches. During the day, I forced myself to be cheerful, playing puzzles with Sofia, watching cartoons, telling her we were having a "super secret sleepover party" with her godmother.
Sofia was easily distracted by the novelty, but sometimes she'd stop playing and look up with those big eyes. "Mommy, when are we going home? I miss Alex."
Every time she asked, it felt like a dull knife sawing at my heart.
Yekaterina went all out to keep Sofia entertained. She folded paper airplanes that flew around the apartment; taught Sofia simple French words like "Bonjour" and "Merci," turning lessons into games; and turned harmless stories from her time in Paris into fairy tales that made Sofia giggle.
"Yekaterina," Sofia asked one day with innocent curiosity, "why don't you have your own baby?"
Yekaterina paused while pouring juice, then turned with a warm but slightly wistful smile. "Because I'm still waiting for someone really worth it to come along. Just like your mommy once met someone she thought was worth it." She gave me a meaningful look.
That phrase "worth it" stung like a thorn. Had I met someone worth it? I thought I had, but now everything seemed so blurry and ridiculous.
But I didn't have time to wallow in self-pity. Logic told me Alexander wouldn't just let us disappear—with his resources and methods, finding us was only a matter of time. And there was still the threat from that unknown enemy. I had to figure out our next move fast.
Yekaterina suggested contacting her cousin in Canada—far away and relatively safe. But I worried about being more exposed crossing borders, the paperwork complications, and dragging even more innocent people into danger.
"At least stay here a few more days," Yekaterina said, seeing my hesitation. "See how things play out, then make a plan. Don't worry, this place is rock solid."
But that night, disaster struck. Sofia developed a low fever, her little face flushed red, forehead burning hot, curled up on the couch whimpering.
"Mommy, it hurts. I want Alex..." she cried softly. "His stories make it not hurt..."
Her fever and her dependent murmurs shattered my heart. I took her temperature—100.5 degrees. Not too high, but a five-year-old needed medicine.
Yekaterina searched the entire medicine cabinet and only found adult fever reducers. "There's a 24-hour pharmacy two blocks away. I'll get children's medicine!" She reached for her coat.
"No," I stopped her. "I can't let you take that risk. If someone's found us... it's too dangerous!"
"Then you definitely can't go out," she argued. "Your picture could be everywhere by now."
I looked at her, torn between conflicting instincts. Finally, maternal responsibility won out over fear. Sofia was my daughter, protecting her was my first priority, and I couldn't let Katya risk herself for us.
"I'm going." I stood up, voice absolutely firm. "I know the risks, but I have to. Take care of Sofia."
I changed into Yekaterina's tracksuit—something I'd never buy for myself—put on her baseball cap and black-rimmed glasses she wore to look cool, trying to alter my appearance as much as possible.
"The nearest pharmacy is just two blocks away," Yekaterina gave me worried directions. "Stay on main streets, well-lit areas. Don't take shortcuts through alleys! Get the medicine and come straight back! If anything feels wrong, run toward crowds or call the police!"
"I know," I nodded, taking a deep breath like I was psyching myself up. "I'll be careful."
The night streets were empty and quiet, only occasional headlights cutting through the darkness. I pulled my cap low and walked quickly, trying to look like any ordinary late-night resident. But at every intersection, I found myself looking over my shoulder, watching every shadow.
After two blocks, something felt wrong. There seemed to be footsteps behind me—when I stopped, they stopped; when I sped up, they matched my pace.
My heart began racing, cold sweat soaking through my clothes. Was I being paranoid? Or... was I really being followed?
I forced myself to stay calm, eyes locked on the green cross neon sign of the pharmacy ahead. One more block. Almost there.
I practically ran into the pharmacy. The bright white light and steady hum of air conditioning gave me a temporary illusion of safety. I rushed to the children's medicine section, grabbed fever reducer, and picked up some cold medicine and Band-Aids before hurrying to the register.
The cashier was a young girl who seemed to stare at me while scanning items. Was my weird late-night getup that obvious? I kept my head down, avoiding her gaze, heart pounding.
With the medicine in hand, I immediately turned to leave.
Instinctively, I chose a different route back—longer but better lit.
But I'd barely left the pharmacy when that feeling of being followed returned, stronger and clearer than before.
This time, I could tell there was more than one set of footsteps.
Terror crashed over me like a freezing tide. I broke into almost a run, lungs burning from rapid breathing. The shops were all closed, the streets deserted except for my panicked footsteps and the danger shadowing me.
I saw a familiar alley ahead—a shortcut back to Yekaterina's apartment. Logic screamed not to go in, but fear had taken over, and I just wanted to cut short this suffocating escape, get back to our temporary sanctuary.
I plunged into the dark alley. But I'd only run a few steps when shadows emerged silently from both sides, completely blocking my path.
"Miss Anna Parker," one of the men spoke, voice flat and emotionless like cold metal. "Finally found you."
I wanted to scream but my throat felt crushed, no sound coming out. I wanted to run but my retreat was blocked by two more men. I clutched the medicine bag, fingernails nearly puncturing the plastic—Sofia was still feverish, waiting for me to come back!
"What... what do you want?" I used every ounce of strength to keep my voice from shaking.
"Someone wants to see you," another voice replied with a hint of impatience. "Cooperate, and this goes easy for everyone."
I instinctively stepped back but hit a solid chest. Despair seized me instantly. Just as I was about to struggle and scream, a wet, cold cloth clamped over my mouth and nose from behind!
A strong, sickeningly sweet chemical smell with a sharp edge flooded my nostrils and lungs! Ether! The memory flashed from college lab class.
"Sofia..." I thought of my daughter's name as consciousness slipped away. She was still feverish, waiting for me. Would Yekaterina protect her? Would Alexander find her?
Darkness swallowed me, my last thought a mix of worry for my daughter and longing for Alexander. Despite all our misunderstandings and pain, in this moment I realized pathetically that what I wanted most was for that man I'd tried so hard to escape to keep his promise and come save us.
Maybe leaving had been a mistake from the very beginning.