Page 53 of Bound By Debt

Silence stretches before Dmitri pats me on the shoulder awkwardly. “He’s strong, Eva. He’ll get through this.”

I hope so, I think, but don’t say it out loud.

After an interminable wait, a man asks, “Are you the woman who came in with Mr.Kucherov?”

Dmitri gives me a narrow-eyed look that speaks volumes before we stand to meet the doctor in scrubs walking toward us. He looks tired, dark circles under his eyes, and his gaze is still a bit wild.

“How is he?” Dmitri and I ask the question at the same time.

“We’re trying to stabilize him, but Mr.Kucherov is in critical condition. He has multiple organ and respiratory failure. He had a seizure but hasn’t had another one so far.”

The words feel like a slap, and I drag air into lungs suddenly too tight, the room clouding over as tears press at my eyes again. Dmitri curses under his breath.

“You were with him, right?”

I nod, my gaze sliding to Dmitri before I say, “We were on a date.”

There is no reaction from beside me. Did he know?

“We’re having trouble figuring out what’s causing his condition, though it seems like he was poisoned somehow. Can you tell me what happened? What was going on before you got to the restaurant? Did he report any pain? Any ill feeling?”

“No.” I shake my head, still fighting back tears. “He was fine. No pain. He was at work before we left.”

“What about what you ate?”

“We only ate the starter. The appetizer.”

“You both ate it? And you feel fine?”

“Yes. Yes to both.”

Something manages to get through the frantic fog swirling in my mind. “He had the wine, though, but just a couple of sips. And then I spilled both our glasses. I didn’t get a chance to have any.”

The doctor stiffens, his eyes narrowing with interest as if he’s just sniffed out prey. “The wine?”

“Yes.” Something else tugs at my memory, and I have to chase it before I can finally catch it. “Some of it spilled on this.”

I hold Evgeny’s coat out so the doctor can see the darker patch where the wine stained the fabric. The doctor calls for gloves and a bag, into which he places the suit coat.

“Thank you. This may help.”

He rushes away with the coat, and there is nothing left for Dmitri and me to do but wait. And wait. And wait some more.

It gives me too much time to imagine all the horrible things that could happen. When the doctor finally comes out, I’ve convinced myself he’s going to tell us they couldn’t save Evgeny.

The doctor looks exhausted as he pulls the cap from his head. “He’s stable for the moment. He’s in the ICU, but he’s stable. He was poisoned.”

Dmitri does not share my shock, but the anger radiating from him is palpable.

“Can we see him?” I ask.

“Only family.”

“I’m his brother, and this is his wife.”

From the way his eyebrows beetle, the doctor doesn’t believe a word Dmitri says. “Look, this is serious. A man almost died and appears to have been poisoned. I’m going to have to call the police. We need to know whether this was accidental or?—”

“Can I speak to you for a moment?”