Page 54 of In Her Blood
Right, because that’s pretty much all—Evelina clapped a hand to her face so hard, so fast that it practically echoed through the room. Pinpricks of pain only sharpened the fresh tears threatening to fall.
“Lina?”
Her throat swelled. “Mamma’s boxes,” she said on a gasp, speaking through her hand. She sucked in a breath and willed herself to cling to some edge of composure. It helped that Otto pulled her hand from her face and into his grip, but she needed information from Artem this time, so she made herself look outward. “There were— I had two boxes. Small, dirty, old shoeboxes. They were in my closet on a low shelf. They were my mother’s … her memories. Did you find them?”
This time, what she saw on Artem’s face could only have been sympathy, and she was suddenly not so sure she was gladshe was learning to read him in the slightest. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I didn’t see anything like that.”
Her heart lurched and her gaze snapped over to where her purse hung precariously off the coat rack. She didn’t truly even remember Otto peeling it off her and draping it there, but he had to have. And now, forever more, the three photos and single letter inside—the ones she’d brought to share with that useless PI—were all she had left of her mother’s nearly forgotten history.
It felt like failure all over again.
Her phone chose that time to ring, buzzing obnoxiously through the sudden and oppressive silence. Evelina cut a look to the device that rested on the side of the desk, but all that showed on the screen were the unhelpful wordsPrivate Caller. And she didn’t frankly care who it was, because in that moment, her heart was finding one more way to break. The only person she could imagine answering a phone for was already next to her.
Otto rocked back on his heels, looking toward the phone. “Sure you want to miss that?”
“You can answer if you want. I don’t … have the energy.”
It occurred to her, as Otto lifted the phone, that it could be Pyotr calling from a new and blocked number. Objectively, she did need to talk to that shitstain. But she’d rather do so when she felt stronger, which in itself left her conflicted.
Thinking of Pyotr made Evelina realize she still needed to tell Artem about Kat.
Otto’s hand moved to her shoulder as he spoke into the phone, having already stood and connected the call. “I’ll give her your message if it’s worth her time.”
Artem chuckled quietly. It was so much the opposite of any reaction her father would have had if he’d heard Otto speaking like that to literally anyone without instruction.
Otto’s grip suddenly tightened, conveying unexpected urgency. “Wait.” He paused, but his next words were not for the caller. “Lina,” he said, dropping back to a crouch and holding the phone to her. “You’re gonna want to take this.”
Evelina blinked at him, confused at his uncharacteristic insistence.
“It’s about your aunt.”
Chapter eighteen
Warnings
The voice of aman Evelina did not know carried through the phone, powerful and commanding despite that she couldn’t even see his face, and with his words the room around her fell away. “Ms. Nikolaev, I presume. This is Dante De Salvo. It has come to my attention that you’ve been asking around about mymother.”
The world spun and Evelina thought for a moment she might pass out. Was this real? How was it possible one of the cousins who shouldn’t have yet known she existed was suddenly calling her personal, unlisted cell phone?Don’t question it!She sucked in a breath, quickly switched the phone to her other ear, and shot out a hand in search of Otto.
He remained crouched at her side, steady and constant. Grounding.
She finally found her voice. Like it or not, she reallyhadto question it. “How do I know you are who you say you are?” It wasn’t like she knew anyone named De Salvo from any other stranger on the street. She wanted to, but she didn’t.
“I’m not interested in games,” Might-be-Dante replied. “You’re the one who’s been so desperate to learn news of my mother’s passing you even attempted to hire a private investigator. Am I to believe you’re so naïve that you didn’t think that would get back to me?”
Evelina opened her mouth to deny his implication before the first wave of understanding smacked her in the face. If, somehow, her searches had been discovered by her mystery relatives, they would look much sketchier without context. She could see that. And it wasn’t like she’d explained the backstory to the PI—she hadn’t gotten that far. If their positions were reversed, she would surely be assuming that the stranger making the inquiries had a concerning ulterior motive.
She barely had time to wonderhowword of her inquiries had come to light before the next wave of understanding crashed. The most obvious answer was Raul Campo, the PI who’dthrown her out. He’d said he’d shred her information, but she hadn’t stuck around to watch him do it.Sloppy.
Evelina rolled her lips together as she debated her response. She didn’t want to make any worse of a first impression, and she didn’t know how to avoid doing exactly that. She was pretty sure she couldn’t text proof of heritage. “It never occurred to me a random PI in Indiana would even know your name,” she said after a moment. “But it’s also not the conspiracy you obviously think, although I do recognize what I have to say isn’t something that can be proven over the phone.”
“You expect me to believe Mikhail sent his only daughter out to—”
“My father is dead,” Evelina said, sharpening her tone to speak over his building accusation. “I don’t know what you think you know, but you’re missing the key information.” She wasn’t sure if she was agitated or concerned at the suggestion that he’d apparently already done at least a bit of his own research. Clearly, he hadn’t found the information that mattered.
Dante’s voice had hardened into what felt frighteningly like a warning tone when he spoke next. “Enlighten me.”
Evelina drew a steadying breath, and Otto tucked her free hand between both of his. “I am sorry if this shocks you as much as it did me,” she said, letting herself speak honestly. “And I’d have preferred we spoke face-to-face if it’d been possible. But all I’ve been doing is trying to keep my promise to my mother, who passed recently.” Her throat constricted briefly and she swallowed the flare of pain. “My mother was born Annetta Mancini … and has an older sister she was cruelly ripped away from a long time ago, who shares the same name asyourmother.”
