Page 116 of Twisted Pact
The phone rings once. Twice. Three times. Maybe she won’t answer. Maybe this is a sign that I should?—
“Mila?” Mama’s voice cracks on my name.
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. All the rehearsed words I prepared vanish.
“Mila, are you there?”
“I’m here.” My voice sounds foreign, small and uncertain in ways I haven’t felt since childhood.
She lets out a shaky breath. “I wasn’t sure you’d ever call. After all this time.”
“Papa suggested I should at least read your emails. I dug out the last one you found from my trash.”
“You read it?”
“Three times.” I nod, even though she can’t see me. “You said you know what’s happening with the Kozlov alliance.”
“I have contacts. People who keep me informed when my daughters are in danger.” Her voice drops lower. “The reports I’m getting terrify me.”
I walk to the wall and rest my head against the bunker’s concrete. “Then you understand why I couldn’t just pick up the phone and chat like nothing happened.”
“I understand you’re drowning in the same world that nearly killed me. And I’m furious with myself for not being there to help you through it.”
“You left. You don’t get to be furious about the consequences of your choices.”
The words come out sharper than I intended, but I don’t take them back.
“You’re right. I left. I made a choice to save myself instead of staying to watch my family destroy itself. And I’ve regretted it every single day since.”
I press my palm against the rough surface. “If you regret it so much, why didn’t you come back? Why did you let months pass without fighting harder to fix things?”
“I knew if I came back, nothing would change. Your father would still be making deals with dangerous people. Irina would still be making choices that put the family at risk. And I would still be the woman having panic attacks in the bathroom while pretending everything was fine.”
“You just gave up on us.”
“I gave up on pretending I could survive in that environment.”
I turn away from the wall and start walking in circles. “Is there? Giving up on the environment meant giving up on your daughters.”
“I never gave up on you or Irina. I gave up on the fantasy that love could protect us from the violence your father chose as a lifestyle.”
“He didn’t choose violence as a lifestyle. He was born into this world, just like I was.”
“And he could have left. Made different choices. Protected his family instead of using us as justification for his business dealings.”
The accusation makes my stomach lurch. “That’s not fair.”
“Neither is expecting me to destroy myself for a man who prioritized power over his wife’s mental health. But we’re both learning that fairness doesn’t exist in that world.”
I sink onto the bed. “Why are you being so harsh about Papa? He nearly died trying to maintain the alliances you’re criticizing.”
“Because I spent twenty-five years making excuses for his choices. Convincing myself that the violence was necessary and that the threats were unavoidable. That if I just tried harder to adapt, everything would work out.” She pauses. “I was wrong about all of it.”
“So, you want me to believe Papa is the villain?”
“There are no heroes in that world, just people making impossible choices and calling it family obligation.”
I pull my knees to my chest. “You called him once. After you left. I heard you on the phone telling him you still loved him despite everything.”
