Chapter 13 Raina
RAINA
The elevator doors haven’t even opened all the way when I slip through the gap and run. My legs move faster than my thoughts. I don’t wait for Sergei or the others. I don’t wait for anything. The study comes into view and my chest tightens so hard I can barely breathe.
I drop to my knees in front of the shelves. My hands search for the panel, but my fingers keep slipping because all I can think is open, open, open. When I press the baseboard, the latch clicks. The shelf moves.
I pull it wide.
The warm light spills across the safe room. Everything looks the same. The couch. The little table. Nadia’s blanket on the floor.
Then I see the rug.
Vera is there. Facedown. Her body is too still.
My throat closes. I crawl to her and roll her over with both hands. Her skin is cold. There’s a wound on her neck. It’s small and clean and final. I press my fingers to her wrist anyway, even though I already know there’s no pulse to find.
“No,” I whisper. My voice cracks in the middle. “Vera, no. You stayed with her. You stayed.”
Sergei kneels beside me. He doesn’t say anything. His jaw is tight, and something dark moves through his eyes. He looks at the room with a calmness that scares me more than the blood on the rug.
I stand too fast and almost fall. I grab the doorframe to stay upright.
“Nadia,” I say. “Where is she?”
No one answers, because no one can. The room is neat. Too neat. There is no struggle. No overturned book. No broken lamp. Nothing that shows fear or hands pulling her away.
Someone opened the safe room the way we do.
Someone who knew how.
I run out into the hall. I can barely hear my own footsteps over the sound of my heartbeat. I push open every door I pass. Closet. Guest room. Linen cabinet. Nothing. I hear Sergei call my name, but I can’t stop. My voice lifts before I can think.
“Nadia! Baby, answer me!”
My own echo hits me back. I keep running.
Sergei catches up and pulls me for a second. His hand is warm on my arm. “She isn’t gone unless we see proof,” he says. His voice is steady, but I feel tension building in him like heat under metal. “We search.”
I pull free and keep moving. There’s no breathing until I find her. My legs shake as I climb the stairs to the service level.
A guard runs toward us. He looks rattled.
“Pakhan,” he says to Sergei, then looks at me. “There’s blood on the stair rail. It’s small. Like a scrape.”
I reach the landing before anyone else. There’s a thin streak on the metal rail. Fresh. Bright. Just a slide of skin. And on the step below, I see something that makes my knees give.
Nadia’s small bear.
My hands shake as I pick it up. There’s no stain on the fur. Nothing torn. She held it tight before she dropped it.
“She didn’t fall,” I say. My chest hurts. “She scraped against the rail. She was carried. She tried to fight him.”
Sergei stands beside me, tall and silent. His voice is low. “She fought,” he says.
My throat closes again. “She tried.”
I want to scream and break and tear every door in this building apart, but there’s no time. I press the bear to my chest and stand.
Before I can take another step, a guard yells from the far hallway.
“Someone’s coming up!”
I turn so fast the world blurs. Sergei lifts his pistol. Kirill and the others shift into a firing line.
Footsteps pound closer.
Then Anastasia appears.
She’s running full speed, hair loose, coat open, face pale. And in her arms, wrapped in her coat, is Nadia.
I feel my legs go weak. My vision blurs for a moment and snaps back sharp.
Anastasia holds Nadia like she’s made of glass. Her voice is shaking when she reaches me.
“I found her,” she says. “She was on the lower level of the service stairs. Someone dropped her when the kitchen alarm tripped. She was crying for you. I swear I got to her as fast as I could.”
I grab Nadia from her and pull her into me. My arms close around her whole body. She clings to me, shaking so hard her breath stutters. Her face presses into my neck. She smells like cold air and dust. I kiss her hair and hold her tighter.
“It’s okay,” I whisper. “You’re here. I’ve got you.”
Tears spill down her cheeks and into the collar of my shirt. Her small hands fist into my coat.
Sergei steps closer. His hand brushes Nadia’s back, gentle even though every part of him is coiled and hard. I can feel the violence in him ready to break open.
I look at Anastasia. Her hair is a mess. She’s still breathing like she ran through fire. Her hands shake as she steadies herself against the wall.
“I didn’t know Vera was hurt,” she says. “I didn’t hear anything. I only heard the alarm. I went down to check the vents because of the blackout earlier. That’s when I heard her voice. I swear that’s all I know.”
Before I can ask her anything else, another guard appears at the top of the stairs.
“Pakhan,” he calls, voice tight. “We found something in the stairwell. You need to see this right now.”
Nadia is still shaking in my arms when Sergei steps closer. His hand moves over her back once, steady and warm, and she lifts her head just enough to look at him with wet eyes.
He presses a kiss to her cheek, then to my forehead. His breath touches my skin, and for a second the world stops rattling.
“I’ll be back pronto,” he says. His voice is low, meant only for us. “Stay in the apartment. Lock every door. Don’t open for anyone except me.”
I hold his gaze. “Find who did this.”
“Oh, I will,” he answers, and something dark and focused passes through his eyes before he turns away and disappears down the hall with Kirill and the others. His footsteps fade fast, swallowed by the building.
Nadia clings to me even harder. Her tiny hands shake as she grips my coat. Anastasia steps in quietly.
“Let me help,” she says. Her voice is soft, careful. “Let’s get her warm.”
I nod. My throat is too tight to speak. We walk together toward Nadia’s room. Every light seems too bright and too cold after the safe room. Nadia presses her face into my neck, and I feel the dampness of her tears through my collar.
Inside her room, everything is untouched. Her night-light glows on the dresser. Her little shoes sit by the rug. It looks safe, even if nothing feels safe anymore.
“Let’s sit her down,” Anastasia says.
I ease Nadia into her bed. She curls into the blanket right away, her body still trembling. I sit beside her and stroke her hair, trying to calm the frantic rhythm of her breath.
“Mama… where’s Vera?” she whispers.
The words hit me so hard my vision drops for a second. I swallow and make my voice steady, even though it cuts inside.
“She’s taking a long, long sleep,” I say. “She’s resting now.”
Nadia’s lip quivers. “She was supposed to stay with me.”
“I know, baby,” I say. “She did stay with you. She stayed until she couldn’t anymore.”
Nadia nods, slow and sad. She presses her face into her bear again. Her shoulders shake once, then go still.
Anastasia steps closer. “Let me make her cocoa,” she says. “Warm milk helps her settle.”
I nod. “Thank you.” My voice is rough.
She slips out and returns a minute later with a small mug in her hands. Steam rises from the top, carrying the soft smell of chocolate. She kneels beside the bed.
“Here, little star,” Anastasia says gently. “Drink a little. It’ll help.”
Nadia pushes up on her elbows and reaches for the cup with both hands. Her fingers are shaky, so I steady the mug with her. She takes a sip, then another, and the tension in her shoulders slowly loosens.
“It’s good,” she whispers.
“I’m glad,” I say.
Anastasia stands. “I’ll bring another for you.”
I open my mouth to say I don’t need it, but she’s already gone. My heart is still pounding from the search, from finding her alive, from seeing Vera on the rug. My hands shake as I pull the blanket around Nadia. She leans against me, sleepy now, the cocoa softening the edge of her fear.
Anastasia returns with a second mug and hands it to me. Her smile is small and tight, like she’s trying to be brave for us.
“You should drink,” she says. “You look shaken.”
I take it because she’s right. My nerves are shot. My chest still hurts. I hold the warm cup between both hands and let the steam hit my face. The warmth feels good. My throat is too tight to speak for a moment.
Nadia finishes her cocoa and hands the empty cup to Anastasia. Her eyelids start to droop. I kiss her hair again and tuck the blanket around her shoulders.
“Stay with her?” I ask Anastasia.
“Of course,” she says. “She isn’t leaving my sight again.”
I take a sip of my own cocoa. It’s sweet and warm and settles heavily in my stomach. I sink into the chair by the bed. My body feels like it’s been running for hours, which it has, but this is different. My muscles start to relax too fast. My eyelids get heavy.
Nadia curls against her pillow, still holding my hand. Her breathing slows into a soft, tired rhythm.
“There you go,” Anastasia murmurs as she smooths Nadia’s hair. “You’re safe now. You’re both safe.”
I try to answer, but my voice slips. I lift the cup to take another sip, but my fingers feel slow. The mug feels heavier than before. Something warm spreads through my chest and down my arms.
I blink hard.
The room tilts a little.
“Raina?” Anastasia says softly. “You’re exhausted. Drink the rest. It’ll help you sleep.”
I nod without thinking. She’s been loyal for years. She found Nadia. She brought her back. She’s standing right here, offering help when everything is falling apart. My body wants rest so badly. I take another sip.
The heaviness deepens. My head drops back against the chair for a moment. I try to straighten, but it’s harder than it should be. My thoughts start slipping out of order, like someone is turning down the lights inside my mind.
Nadia’s small fingers loosen in my hand as she falls asleep. I brush her knuckles with my thumb, but even that movement feels slow.
When I look up at Anastasia, she’s watching me.
Her face is calm and her eyes hold a kind of focus I’ve never seen in them before.
And her mouth curves into a small, quiet smile. Everything goes soft around the edges.
I blink again, trying to stay awake, trying to speak, but the words don’t make it out. The room blurs and my fingers slip from the mug.
The last thing I see is Anastasia still smiling at me.