Page 50 of Blood & Snow

"Ded Moroz looks very kind."

"He is kind. He helps families who need presents but don't have enough money."

Mikhail adds more details to his drawing.

"Do you think he'll come to our house this year?"

Before our mother died, we celebrated with traditional foods and small gifts exchanged forNovy God.

The past two years brought only meager celebrations, scraped together from Irina's tight budget.

This year could be different—will be different.

I just don't know how I will live with the guilt of where the money came from to supply such lavish things in our modest lifestyle.

"I think Ded Moroz always comes to houses where children are loved," I say carefully.

"And you're very loved here."

"Will you help us make cookies?"

Anya asks, abandoning the soup to focus on me.

"Mama said we might have enough flour and sugar this year."

"Of course."

I ruffle her hair, seeing how trusting her big eyes are.

"We'll make the best cookies in Moscow."

We eat dinner while the children chatter about school and holiday plans.

Their enthusiasm should lift my spirits, but guilt gnaws at me with every bite.

I'm foolish and stupid.

I've let Xander's dominance and good looks cloud my judgment.

I shouldn't be letting him get under my skin and lavish me in gifts.

My moral compass has been destroyed and I can't find my way back to what is good and true and right.

I eat, but I have to force myself to choke it down past the lump of guilt in my throat.

After dinner, I help Irina clean dishes while the children work on homework in the living room.

The longer I'm here, the more shame I feel.

I go through the motions while my mind replays memories of Xander's hands on my body, his voice claiming ownership over me.

"Nadya."

Irina's voice interrupts my distraction.

"You're washing that glass for the third time."

I look down to find myself scrubbing a perfectly clean drinking glass.