Dmitry sat on the bathroom floor listening to the dead phone line.
He’d always thought of his father as immortal. Given Bratva’s reach, in a sense he was. Everything changes, nothing disappears. He had feared his father for so long and from so far away, he wasn’t sure if the Anton he dreaded was real or imaginary.
Everything changes, nothing disappearsEven when they’d lived under the same roof, his father had been distant.
And yet Dmitry was bound to him, tethered by the bandages of memory he’d wrapped around the wounds of his childhood.
“Are you okay?” Vanya asked. “Can we leave the toilet now?”
When they came out of the bathroom, the girls were having a heated discussion over tea.
“Girls, Cousin Vanya and I have to run an errand,” Dmitry said. “We won’t be back until late tomorrow
