Silence.
Not the peaceful kind, but the heavy, suffocating kind that wraps a hand around your throat and squeezes until all you hear is the pounding of your own heartbeat.
Sasha was on her knees.
Demetri beside her.
Nora standing over them both—shaking.
Mila held onto Vera, eyes wide, terrified, but unable to look away.
Ivan stood near the window, lantern flickering, breath coming harsh and uneven.
The rain outside had softened to a steady patter. As though the storm, exhausted, had given its final warning and left the rest to fate.
Sasha’s voice broke first.
“My… mother? Alive?”
She shook her head. “Impossible.”
Nora knelt. “Sasha—”
“No!” Sasha gasped, pulling away. “I watched her die. I saw her buried. I saw the earth go over her! I—”
Her words dissolved into sobs.
Violent,
