Page 36 of Scarlet Chains
Orphanage. The word has an ominous ring to it. And it unravels every assumption I’ve made about this family, this situation, this beautiful little boy who’s been placed in my temporary care.
“I’m afraid I have some disturbing news, Miss…”
“Katona.” My tongue feels thick, clumsy. “Disturbing news?”
The pause that follows stretches unbearably. I can hear Cameron Simpson drawing breath, preparing to detonate whatever bomb he’s called to deliver. Behind me, Slava drops a piece of banana and it hits the floor with a tiny, wet sound that somehow feels impossibly loud.
“Miss Katona, I’ve just been contacted by the police. We are the first point of contact if something were to happen with Slava’s adoptive parents. I am sorry to inform you that Elena and Leonid Vorobev were involved in a plane crash last night. Their private jet went down over the ocean. Neither of them survived.”
The phone slips from nerveless fingers. I catch it just before it hits the counter, the motion automatic, muscle memory keeping me upright when my mind has gone completely blank.
Adoptive parents.
Plane crash.
Neither survived.
The words don’t compute. They float in my consciousness like debris after an explosion, refusing to form a coherent picture. I’m dimly aware that Cameron Simpson is still talking, but his voice sounds like it’s coming from underwater.
“What?” The word scrapes out of my throat.
“I know this is terrible news—”
“Wait.” I press my back against the cabinet, needing something solid to anchor me. “Wait, you said adoptive parents? Slava was adopted?”
A pause. “Yes, Miss Katona. I assumed you were aware. The Vorobevs completed the adoption process through our facility approximately three weeks ago.”
Three weeks. They’d had him for barely a week and then hired me? “But… they never mentioned… I thought he was their biological son.”
“I understand this is confusing. The Vorobevs requested privacy regarding the adoption details. They felt it was important for Slava’s transition that household staff treat him as they would any biological child.”
Staff. The word stings more than it should. “How did this happen? The crash, I mean.”
“According to the Coast Guard, their aircraft lost contact with air traffic control around 7 p.m last night. They were returning from a business trip to Miami. The wreckage was located early this morning.” His voice gentles. “I’m truly sorry, Miss Katona. I know this must be devastating news.”
Devastating doesn’t begin to cover it. I slide down the cabinet door until I’m sitting on the cold tile, phone pressed against my ear. “What happens now? To Slava?”
“Under Massachusetts law, custody reverts to the adoption agency when adoptive parents pass away without naming guardians. We’ll need to collect Slava and begin the process of finding him a new placement.”
“Collect him.” The words feel foreign in my mouth. “Like he’s… like he’s a package?”
“I understand how that sounds, Miss Katona, but we have protocols—”
“He doesn’t know.” The words burst out of me. “He’s just a baby. He doesn’t understand that they’re gone, that his whole world just disappeared again.”
“Again?”
“He spent his first year in your orphanage, didn’t he? Then three weeks with the Vorobevs, and now…” I watch Slava mashing his banana, completely oblivious to the conversation that’s determining his future. “How many times is this child going to lose everything?”
The silence stretches long enough that I wonder if the line has gone dead.
“Miss Katona,” Cameron Simpson finally says, his voice softer now. “I can hear how much you care about Slava. That’s… that’s not always the case with temporary caregivers. Would you be able to stay with him just for another day? I know it’s a lot to ask, but the transition will be easier if he’s not moved immediately.”
Another day.
One more day to pretend this nightmare isn’t real. One more day before this little boy becomes a statistic again.
I look at Slava. He’s abandoned his banana in favor of trying to climb out of his high-chair, chubby legs kicking with determination. When he sees me watching, his face lights up with that radiant smile that’s become as essential to my mornings as coffee.
