“Exactly. Alexei keeps trying to explain to him that we’re fine now, that mommy and daddy made up, but Yuri doesn’t care. He’s decided that his father made me cry so now he has to pay.”
Anya grins. “That kid is something else.”
“He’s just like his father. Stubborn and vindictive.”
She’s still laughing when movement catches my eye. I glance over at the trees where Taras and Alexei are still talking. Yuri is creeping up behind them. He’s crouched low, moving slowly, his hands cupped together like he’s holding something.
I know Taras spots him from the brief glance downward, but he pretends not to notice and keeps right on talking to Alexei without missing a beat.
My stomach drops.
“Oh my god,” I whisper.
“What?” Anya follows my gaze.
Yuri creeps up right behind Alexei holding handfuls of sand, except it’s not just sand since there are little black dots crawling all over his palms and moving through his fingers.
“Is that—” Anya’s eyes widen. “Are those soldier ants?”
“ALEXEI!” I scream. “YOUR SON! ANTS!”
Alexei spins around just as Yuri throws the sand at him.
He moves faster than I’ve ever seen, his hand shooting out to grab Yuri by the wrist and yank him backward before any of that sand makes contact.
“LET ME GO! LET ME GO!” Yuri screams, his whole body thrashing violently in Alexei’s hold with his face going crimson as his legs flail and kick at the air.
“You little—” Alexei growls, holding him at arm’s length.
The scene draws attention from everyone nearby, including a woman with a stroller who stops walking to watch, a jogger who slows down looking worried, and a man from a bench who stands up to see what’s happening.
“LET ME GO!” Yuri shrieks even louder, his body jerking and twisting so wildly that Alexei needs both hands clamped around him to maintain his hold.
The man from the bench begins walking straight toward them. “Hey! Leave that child alone!”
“He’s my son,” Alexei says through gritted teeth.
“That doesn’t look like your son,” the man says, getting closer. “That kid doesn’t even look like you.”
He’s right. Yuri has Alexei’s nose, but everything else is mine. My eyes. My mouth. My face shape. With his long eyelashes and soft features, people have mistaken him for a girl more than once.
“I’m telling you, he’s my son,” Alexei snaps.
“LET ME GO! LET ME GO!” Yuri screams again, with tears streaming down his face.
A crowd starts forming around them, and one woman lifts her phone to record while another man moves closer to intervene.
“Let the kid go, man,” the second man says. “We’ve already called the police.”
Alexei’s jaw tightens. He looks at Taras, who’s trying very hard not to laugh.
“A little help?” Alexei says.
Taras shrugs. “He’s your son.”
“He’s only my son when he does bad things?” Alexei shoots back. “But he’s her son when he does good stuff?”
I sprint towards them running over. “YES!” I shout. “IT’S TRUE! THAT’S MY KID! THAT’S MY HUSBAND!”