My hands are still shaking.
I can't stop seeing the man's face.
The way his eyes widened when the bullet hit.
The way he fell.
I don't know how long I'm going to think of that but I'm positive I'm going to have nightmares about it.
When I return to the main room, Dimitri is standing by the window, speaking with one of his men.
He glances at me, then nods toward the door.
"Convoy's here. Let's go."
We step outside into the cold air.
The yard's a war zone.
Bodies lie in the snow.
A burning car has collapsed in on itself, flames still flickering.
Dimitri's men are loading supplies into the back of two black SUVs, moving quickly and efficiently.
Dimitri guides me to the first vehicle, opening the door.
I climb inside, sliding across the seat.
He follows, sitting beside me.
The door slams shut, and the driver starts the engine.
As we pull away from the safehouse, I look back through the rear window.
The building is dark now, windows shattered, walls pocked with bullet holes.
My world feels like it's been turned upside down and now it's crushing me.
I feel sick and scared of what it will be like when I tell Artemy—my supposed cousin—that I think I'm Ekaterina.
I'm terrified that this is what my life will be like.
Since I've known Dimitri he's had nothing but trouble and stress and even bloodshed.
And that's not how I envisioned my life.
Maybe that's why my mother kept me from it.
She was protecting me from this.
Not from the deceitful men or the thievery and crime.
It was the bloodshed and violence.
I stare out the window while Dimitri holds my hand with one of his and flicks through messages on his phone with the other.
He's used to this.