43
Sara
I get dressed while Peter tries reaching Anton and the twins again. My hands are cold from stress, my fingers clumsy, and it takes two attempts to tie the shoelaces on my sneakers.
“Anything?” I ask when I’m done, and Peter shakes his head, his face dark.
“Nothing. I’m going to try Kent, see if he’s heard anything.”
“Oh, that’s a good idea.” I chew on my lip as he punches in some number and waits, phone pressed to his ear.
“It’s Peter,” he says tersely. “Have you—wait, what?”
He listens in tense silence as Kent fills him in on whatever’s happened, and when he lowers the phone, I take a step back at his expression.
“Interpol raided Yulia’s restaurants. All of them,” he says tightly. “Lucas barely managed to get Yulia out before they came to his house in Cyprus. Now they’re o
