Page 43 of Atlas
“I…”
I could hear Velna’s breathing and waited for her to continue.
“Sometimes, Niklavs does things without thinking. He’s angry at you.” Her accent was Eastern European.
“Yes, I know.”
“I’m angry, too, but…”
“Yes?”
“If he kills you, he’ll go to jail, and then I’ll have no one left.” Her voice wobbled a bit at the end of her sentence. “He’s all I have.”
I wasn’t sure what to say, so I asked another question. “Velna, about his death threats. Do you think he’s trying to scare me, or is he serious?”
“At first, I thought he was trying to scare you, but now…” She sighed. “All he talks about is hurting you. He’s beside himself with anger.”
“Yes, you said that. And you think he’s coming to kill me?”
She hesitated before she answered in a low voice. “Niklavs has been talking about shooting you for months. In Latvia, a man’s pride is everything. When you took Benjamin, you took his pride. But you can’t tell anyone that I warned you. If Niklavs finds out, he’ll…”
“He’ll what? Will he beat you for telling me?” My question was direct, and she went quiet again. “You can tell me the truth.” I changed to a placating tone to make her feel more at ease.
“I shouldn’t.”
“Velna, no one deserves to live in fear. If Niklavs is abusing you, then you should speak up.” I pitied this woman, and the psychologist in me wanted to help.
“If I tell you, you have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone else.”
“I can’t make that promise. There are laws that I have to follow, or I could lose my license to work as a psychologist. You can talk to me if you want. Sometimes getting it out can feel healing.”
“Niklavs and I…” She stopped herself, but I sensed that she was bursting from a need to talk about it.
“Yes?”
“I met Niklavs back in Latvia. He was a boxer and a bit of a local celebrity. We’d only been dating for a few months when he told me he was moving to the US. His family already lived in California, and they had found him a promoter who was willing to make him the next star. He sold me the dream of us living here and convinced me that he would be winning bouts and making lots of money. I agreed to marry him and go with him to the US. That was twelve years ago.”
“But things didn’t go as you planned?”
“No.” She sighed. “He’s a talented boxer, and for years he did well; he won games and made money. Not large sums but enough that we could live off it. Then things changed, and he had a losing streak. Niklavs was frustrated because I was pregnant with Benjamin, and he wasn’t making enough money. One night, he argued with his promoter, and Niklavs lost it. He attacked and came close to killing the man. After that, it was over. He was blacklisted everywhere.”
“Did he ever hit you?”
“Yes.”
I opened my eyes. “Is that why you didn’t stop him from hitting Benjamin? Because you were afraid of him?”
Her sniffles told me she was crying.
“You have to report him for domestic violence, Velna.”
“No. You don’t know everything. Niklavs is very dedicated to me.”
I swallowed a snort. “I’m going to text you the number to a helpline, and I want you to call them, all right? They will help you figure out ways to protect yourself legally but also give you instructions on where to go if you want to leave him.”
She was crying loudly now.
“Velna, listen to me…”
