Page 178 of Stolen Empire
Tears spill down her cheeks, and she reaches across the table to take my hand.
"It was never your fault. I was trying to protect you, but I see now that I hurt you instead. I'm sorry, Katya. I'm so sorry."
I squeeze her hand, and the anger I've carried for so long begins to dissolve.
It doesn't disappear completely, but it softens, and I can finally see her as she is—a woman who did the best she could with what she had.
Artemy has been quiet through most of this, watching us with an expression I can't read.
When I look at him, he clears his throat and leans back in his chair.
"I grew up knowing I had a cousin somewhere," he says, his voice even.
"My father mentioned it once or twice, but he never told me where you were or even your name. And without knowing, the family was left to me. He wanted me to have the leg up in thefamily he never got because of Lyovik, and so I did, but this family has never been mine to command. It was yours."
"I didn't know I was Morozova until a few weeks ago," I say.
"I had no idea any of this existed."
He nods slowly.
"I can see that. You don't carry yourself the way someone raised in this world does. And that's okay. You're softer because life hasn't hardened, you and you've done well."
"I have?"
"And now you're here."
He glances at my mother, then back at me.
"Part of a family."
His warmth is unexpected, and I don't know what it means to be part of this family, to carry the Morozov name, but sitting here with Artemy and my mother, I feel at home.
I'm not sure I can put down roots in this place, but at least I know where I came from and what ties me to this world.
We talk for hours, sharing stories that fill in the gaps between us.
My mother tells me about the years after she left my father, how she moved from city to city, always looking over her shoulder.
Artemy tells me about growing up under his father's shadow, learning to navigate a world of so much danger.
And I tell them about my life—the thefts, the cons, the loneliness that followed me everywhere I went.
By the time the sun begins to set, my throat is hoarse and my eyes are dry from crying.
My mother looks exhausted, her face pale, and Artemy suggests she rest.
She agrees, squeezing my hand one more time before retreating to the guest room Artemy has given her.
When she's gone, Artemy makes a generous offer I'm not sure I can accept.
"You're welcome to stay here as long as you need. Both of you."
"Thank you," I say, and I mean it.
If only it were so simple.
But there is another matter pressing on me I have to address and I don't really know how to explain it to anyone but Dimitri.
