Page 11 of Broken Embers

“Nice suit.” The sarcasm drips from my tongue. “Is that Wednesday’s shade of gray?”

She says nothing. Doesn’t roll her eyes or give a sigh. She simply sits there, watching me from across the table with that cool calm poise of hers. We regard each other across the table. Her eyes are impossible to read, like frozen lakes — deep and cold and utterly still.

“Good morning…” she glances at her wristwatch. “Sorry, afternoon to you too, Sabina. I hope you got a restful six hours of sleep?”

“Six hours?” I blink at her.I slept for six hours?It felt like no more than two at the most. “What is the time?” I ask, holding up my bare wrist. “Like the rest of my clothes and belongings you took my watch, which I’m going to want back. It was the last birthday present that…” I stop myself from saying more.

“It’s just after two in the afternoon,” Yelena’s words shock me. “I made sure we let you get a good six hours of sleep. Tonight you will go to bed at eleven. You will be woken at seven to have a shower and then breakfast at eight. We will begin working with you promptly at nine each day.”

“So I’ve been kidnapped by a Russian summer camp!” I say and her eyes narrow slightly. “You do know what a summer camp is, right?”

“I am not stupid, Sabina,” Yelena says almost defensively.

Oh, good she has a weak spot—her intellect.How interesting! I refrain from rubbing my chin like a movie villain summing up my target but I really want to because I’ve found a chink in miss icy queen’s armor. I plan to keep a close watch on her to find some more just in case I need some leverage when I’m trying to escape or defend myself against her.

“So when are you going to take me to the room to strap me in a chair attached to car batteries to try and shock information out of me?” I lean back, slide my legs out in front of me and fold my arms, going for I’m relaxed and bored pose. “Or are you going to start with ink blots?” I frown. “I have to warn you all I ever see are… well ink blots. I have no idea where people see butterflies, foxes, and so on.” I purse my lips. “I guess crazy people see crazy things.”

“We’ll get to testing that,” Yelena assures me. “But today we’re going to start with this.” She slides the folder toward me. “I thought you could learn about your family?”

I stare at the folder in distaste before sitting up and tap it with my index finger. “What is there?” I look up at her. “More Russian propaganda?”

“This is not some indoctrination center, Sabina,” Yelena tells me. “But there is proof of who your parents are.”

I hesitate, then flip it open.

The photographs inside steal the air from my lungs.

“These are your beginnings,” she says.

I can’t stop myself from pouring through them.

There are pictures of a young woman with brilliant, searching eyes and a defiant set to her jaw that I’d know anywhere—my mother. Only according to the writing beneath it, it’s Mariya at age eighteen.

Another one that catches my eyes is of a young man standing rigid in a military uniform and the name reads—Leonid.

They are Mariya and Leonid but look like Carla and Sol, my mother and father.

There are more photos of them. Photos of my father with a younger Yelena and a small baby. Photos of my mother with medals, holding up very impressive medical certifications.

“Jesus, she’s a doctor?” My eyes dart to Yelena.

“Mariya is much more than a doctor,” Yelena tells me, her eyes flashing with a mix of emotions I can’t quite fathom as they are gone just as quickly as they came. “She was a surgeon, a chemist, and a geneticist.”

“Then that’s definitely not my mother,” I tell her, my brow rising. “My mother is a trained prima ballerina who faints at the sight of blood.”

“Mariya was a prima ballerina and would’ve pursued a career as one had she not joined the RMSAD,” Yelena tells me. “And if she ever fainted at the sight of blood… she was acting. She dealt with plenty of blood and all sorts of other bodily fluids in our line of work.”

“What do you mean she worked at the RMSAD?” I can’t help myself, I want to know because if my mother is really this Mariya… I swallow the sudden lump in my throat as the feel of betrayal slices through me. I shake it off. I can have an existential crisis later. Now is not the time to lose my shit. “I take it this place is the RMSAD?”

“Yes, you are in a part of it,” Yelena confirms. “This is where all thesciencehappens.”

My eyes narrow at her use of the word science. “What type of science exactly?”

She tilts her head slightly, assessing me. “We’ll get to that soon enough.”

“You seem to think we have a lot of time to get to things,” I tell her. “But, lady, I can assure you that I already have an army looking for me.”

“They won’t find you,” Yelena tells me confidently. “And I hope they don’t try because I would hate for you to lose the man you loved in a senseless battle he will never win. No matterwhohe is.”

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