Not when I have no idea whether Anatoly or Amara is coming home.
The sound of car engines outside makes my heart leap into my throat. I rush to the window and watch as several black SUVs pull into the circular driveway. When I see the front door swing open, I nearly collapse with relief.
Anatoly enters first, his face grim but determined. Roma and Vassily follow behind him. And then?—
"Amara!" I cry out, rushing forward.
My sister stands there, shivering despite the warm evening. She's barefoot, her toes curling against the marble floor. Underneath Anatoly's jacket around her shoulders, she's wearing nothing but a skimpy neon lingerie that barely covers anything. Gaudy makeup is smeared across her face, and her eyes hold a vacant stare I've never seen before.
"I'm so sorry," I whisper, throwing my arms around her. "I'm so, so sorry this happened to you."
Amara doesn't respond at first, her body stiff against mine. Then slowly, her arms come up to return my embrace. A small, broken sob escapes her.
"Let's get you upstairs," I murmur, pulling back to look at her face. "And change you into some real clothes."
I wrap Anatoly's jacket tighter around her shoulders and guide her toward the staircase. I catch Anatoly's eye as we pass, a silent question passing between us. He gives me a small nod that sayswe'll talk later.
Upstairs, I lead Amara to her room. The familiar space seems to bring her back to herself a little.
"I'll wait out here while you change," I tell her, squeezing her hand. "Take your time. Whatever you need."
When the door closes, I lean against the wall, tears burning my eyes. Behind the door, I can hear a shower coming on. And with it, the unmistakable sound of sobbing.
The sound of Amara crying breaks my heart.
This is my fault. All of it. If I hadn't gotten involved with Anatoly, if I hadn't angered Lola...
Heavy footsteps approach, and I look up to see Anatoly climbing the stairs. His knuckles are bruised, and there's blood on his shirt that I pray isn't his.
"What happened?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. "What did they do to her?"
Anatoly runs a hand through his hair, his jaw tight. "After Grisha took you to the train station, Lola took Amara. She always intended to offer your sister as a gift to Killian O'Shea."
My stomach lurches.
"And after you escaped from Grisha, Lola went ahead and set up the meeting."
I wrap my arms around myself, fighting the nausea rising in my throat. "What did she do to my sister?"
"From what Amara told me, Lola kept her in a cage." Anatoly's words fall like stones between us. "Told her all the terrible things that were going to happen to her once she was in Killian's hands."
The world tilts beneath my feet. I lean against the wall for support, my fingernails digging into my palms.
"A cage?" My voice breaks. "She put my baby sister in a cage?"
Anatoly nods once, his expression grim.
I think of Amara—brilliant, kind Amara with her dreams and her gentle heart—locked up like an animal, terrified and alone. Forced to listen to that bitch gloating about a fate worse than death.
The monster that always rises to the surface whenever I'm around Anatoly now stirs to life in my chest, and it growls to see Lola's blood paint these walls.
"She swore..." My words come out as a whisper. "Lola swore that Amara wouldn't be harmed if I did what she wanted."
Anatoly steps closer, his hand coming to rest on my shoulder. "Lola was never going to hold to that promise,britvochka. She was always going to hurt you both from the beginning."
The truth of his words settles over me. Of course she was never going to keep her word. I was a fool to believe otherwise, even for a moment.
"When she was in Lola's cage. Did Lola or Grisha…" I can't finish the question, can't bear to put those words into the universe.