Maria
"The night I was shot, I sent a text to my father. I thought I could help by talking to him, but then I changed my mind. I dropped my phone, and when I picked it up ..." I stare into Mikhail's steady gaze. "It's how I knew you were in trouble. I made an awful mistake. And if anything had happened to you ..."
My voice trails off, and he turns his back to me. Be strong, Maria. I stirred the pot, and now, I have to clean up the mess. I concentrate on my breathing to keep myself from breaking down.
Mikhail faces the window. "So that's why you were there that night."
I clench my teeth to silence a sound threatening to escape my throat, wondering if I've lost Mikhail by sneaking around behind his back. I stare at the tension in his broad shoulders as he stares at the city out the windo
