Disappear back to New York.
Back to Marco’s estate.
Back to whatever fresh hell he’d designed with that calm, meticulous cruelty of his.
The thought made my stomach twist.
They’d done it before—wiped pieces of my memory like smudges on glass. Back when I was younger. Softer. Still naïve enough to believe that blood meant protection.
That family meant safety. I remembered the confusion afterward more than the procedure itself. The blank spaces. The way everyone insisted I was fine while I felt... hollow.
They could do it again.
Easily.
The realization settled like ice in my veins.
What if this time they took something bigger? What if they took Vanya from me—not physically, but completely? What if they erased him from my mind the way they’d erased fear, rebellion, inconvenient truths? Made me forget I’d ever had a son. Made me forget the weight of him in my arms, the sound of his laugh, the way his brow furrowed when he concentrated.
Made me forget the pain.
The love.
The fight.
My chest tightened until each breath scraped.
Fear rose fast and sharp—raw, animal, unmanageable. This was the terror I never let myself feel fully, because once it took hold, it didn’t let go.
I’d survived the Albanians by clinging to one unbreakable truth: Vanya needed me. Even if he didn’t know it. Even if he never remembered.
He needed me to exist.
But if I left tonight, that truth died with the distance. Shrunk into something symbolic instead of real. Something helpless.
I closed my eyes.
Ruslan’s name surfaced like a prayer I wasn’t sure anyone still answered.
I pictured the letter I’d sent him—three pages of stripped-down honesty, of confessions I’d never said out loud, of desperation I’d folded into every line.
If he read it.
If he believed it.
If he moved fast enough.
The words stacked like fragile cards.
But 2:00 a.m. was hours away. Too close. Too certain. Time wasn’t on my side—it never had been.
I opened my eyes again and stared out at the lake. It reflected nothing but darkness now, the stars swallowed whole. No answers. No signs. Just a vast, silent body of water that didn’t care whether I stayed or vanished.
Chapter 6
PENELOPE
The night air cut through me like a blade.