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My chest tightens at the thought of them; my father’s calm presence, and my brother’s fierce protectiveness.
Mikhail pushes off of the doorframe, his gaze never leaving mine.
“How has your brother been kind to you?” He asks, his tone sounding like he’s trying to puzzle something out. “What’s Dario like?”
I hesitate for a second, my mind now flooded with so many memories of my brother.
He’s always made me feel like I’m the most important thing in the world, and he’s always made sure to keep me safe.
“Dario is protective.” I say, my voice a little softer now, raspier with the memories of my brother in mind. “He has a tough exterior, but he always has a soft spot for me. He’s always making sure that I’m okay. He looks out for me…fratello mio.”
There’s a quiet pause.
My throat has become dry now, and as I look up, I find the weight of both their gazes on me. I try not to let it get to me, but it’s hard to hold back the tears when all I want is to see my family again.
It’s not fair that they’re both here together—brothers—whilst my family is somewhere else, probably scared out of their minds about my whereabouts.
“What about your father? What is he like?”
Nikolai’s the one to ask the question this time, and his voice is a little more hesitant now.
It’s almost as if he’s afraid that I’ll break completely.
“Papa…” I pause, taking a deep breath in, trying to steady myself. “He’s the strong one. Even though he carries the weight of it all on his shoulders, he never lets anybody see him weak. He loves me, loves Dario too, and he raised us both all alone after…after Mama’s death.”
Just the mention of my mother has a sob bubbling in my throat.
I swallow hard, forcing it down.
Mikhail shifts, his eyes narrowing in my direction, as though he’s trying to figure me out.
“And how did she die?”
He asks me, his voice quiet.
I don’t want to answer that question.
I don’t want to remember the day that my mother died, and howeverythingchanged for us in only a matter of seconds.
I don’t want to remember how my father became even more guarded, even more determined to keep us protected.
Biting down on my bottom lip, I fight back tears.
“Mama was…she was killed.” My breathing is shaky, and my chest aches. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
This time, Nikolai is the one who steps forward, only stopping when he’s standing right in front of me with one hand pressed to my shoulder.
His eyes…they’re gentle, but they’re guarded too.
“We’re not trying to hurt you, darling.” He says quickly. “We just want to know. We need to understand.”
I look up at him, blinking the tears away, before glancing over to Mikhail.
They’re both waiting on me, and I realise that it’s not even about understanding any more.
They want answers.
I take a heavy breath in, holding it for a few seconds, before I release it.