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“You’re alive!” Vasilisa sobs as she grabs me hard enough to hurt a little.

“God in Heaven, Milena,” Angelina chokes, staring at me like I'm a ghost. “We thought…” She trails off, crossing herself and kissing the rosary around her neck.

“Your father has been tearing the city apart looking for you!” Vasilisa blurts, pawing at my hair, my dress, her eyes dragging over me with shock and concern. “Bozhe moy,” she whispers, looking horrified.

“I’m okay, it was all a misunderstanding,” I tell them, hugging them before pulling back. My brows furrow. “My father…uhh…” I glance down at my appearance.

“Come,” Vasilisa urges, grabbing my arm and dragging me through the house. She takes me into the laundry room by the kitchen and immediately starts pulling clean clothes off a rack: leggings, a t-shirt, a hoodie.

I strip off the horror-show of a dress and yank them on before I hug her again.

“Thank you,” I say quietly. “I’ll explain everything,” I tell her. “I swear. But first?—”

“MILENA!!”

There’s no stopping the grin that fills my face when I hear my father’s voice.

“Papa!” I scream, bolting from the laundry room as he rushes into the kitchen.

My God.

He looks like he’s aged five years in the last three days: his face is haggard and gaunt, with huge bags under his eyes. It doesn't look like he's slept at all.

Curiously, he’s shirtless, his torso glistening with sweat.

“Milena—!”

We both rush at each other, meeting in the middle of the kitchen as he flings his arms around me and hugs me so tightly it feels like I’m going to crack a rib.

“Solnyshka,” he whispers in a ragged, broken voice, hugging me like he’ll never let me go. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“Nyet, Papa,” I cry into his sweaty shoulder, clinging to him fiercely. “Never.”

We pull apart, his glistening eyes running over me, making sure I’m not hurt in any way.

I’m about to ask him why he’s shirtless and sweating when my gaze drops to his hands, holding mine.

They’re swollen. The knuckles are bruised.

…And stained with blood.

My heart drops, a cold feeling stabbing into my heart as my eyes drag up to his.

“Papa,” I whisper. “Where is he?Where is he!?”

“Downstairs,” he finally growls.

“GET HIM!”

Papa’s face darkens as he shakes his head. “No, Milena.”

“Please!!” I scream. “Before they kill?—!”

“No one gets killed in this house without my say-so,” he grunts. “What did he do to you,solnyshka?" he growls again. “What did that bastard?—”

“Nothing, Papa,” I blurt.

Papa eyes me closely. “You’re home now. You’re safe. You don’t have to worry?—”