41
Nikolai
“The tests just came back,” the doctor informs me when I return to Slava’s room after a brief bathroom break. “Salmonella poisoning.”
My breath escapes my tightly clenched throat as a wave of relief crashes into me. They’ve already stopped Slava’s vomiting and gotten him on IV fluids, but until this moment, we’d had no idea what’s made him so sick.
Salmonella.
Not some exotic designer poison from which there may be no cure.
Fucking salmonella.
I round on Lyudmila, who has the misfortune of being the only other person in the room. “Did you let him touch raw meat or eggs?”
She blanches. “No, I swear! He didn’t even eat eggs today, unless—” Her eyes widen, and she presses her hand to her mouth. “Oh, no.”
“What? Spit it out.”
“Cookie dough,” she whispers, her round face pa
