Her comments concerning my grogginess went unanswered as I ate mindlessly. My mind kept going back to my crazy dream. The utter bliss I felt was so real that remembering it made my chest ache.
The Eduard I saw in the dream seemed like a doppelganger of this self-contained Eduard. His eyes were a sharp contrast to the dead ones that stared back at me in real life.
My headache came from just one issue: Why did it bother me that the dream felt so real?
***
Soft knocks sounded, and I knew it was none other than Agatha.
“Come in,” I called, standing from the chair facing the dresser.
The door opened, and she came in with a tray.
“I could say this tray has become mine,” I commented. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, Marielle.”
Her usual smile brightened her face as she deposited the tray on the stool.
“You look well. Better,” she pointed out as she straightened.
“In other words, the bruises on my face are fading.”
I walked over to the edge of the bed, pulling the stool closer to myself.
Agatha took a seat on the couch.
“Thanks for the clothes. I was honestly not expecting that many.”
“Many? I just mixed up a couple of casuals. I didn’t know what you’d prefer. Your red dress was the only point of reference I had.”
“Well, I was expecting just a pair or two. Prisoners don’t always get a wardrobe.”
“You’re not a prisoner. You’re far from it, I tell you.”
“So, what am I?”
“Work-in-progress?”
We both burst into laughter at her weird remark.
“I still find it hard to believe you were born into this world. What is a normal person like you doing here?”
“Things are not always the way they seem, Marielle.”
“A bit of a cliche, if you ask me.”
“Maybe. But it’s the truth.”
“Is your husband one of them? I mean, you once told me he also belongs in the criminal world.”
“Not really.” She gesticulated with her hands. “He works with the Bratva, but he’s not with them like Ivan and the rest of the guys you see around. Every Mafia has a boss; here, he’s the Pakhan. Then there’s theconsigliere, more like the legal consultant, the legal advocate.”
I mouthed a ‘wow.’
“Then, the underboss is the next-in-line; he’s to take over from the boss. Now, most of those guys you see around are brigadiers, or crew bosses. A crew boss has his own soldiers under him. My husband is somewhere between a soldier and a crew boss. He’s an affiliate. Affiliates are like…freelancers. They render their services to not just one Mafia.”
“Sounds like a government class.”