CHAPTER 11
1134 Words
The word left Roman’s mouth like a curse.
“Victor.”
I stared at him.
For a few seconds, nobody moved.
The message on my phone seemed to burn through my hand.
YOU’RE GETTING CLOSER, ELENA.
BUT YOUR MOTHER ISN’T THE ONLY ONE WHO SURVIVED.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
“My father?” I whispered.
Roman didn't answer.
That scared me more than anything.
“Roman.”
His jaw tightened.
“Not here.”
I laughed bitterly. “Of course. Not here. Not now. Maybe tomorrow? Or next year?”
“Elena—”
“No.”
I stepped back from him.
“You've all been lying to me since the day you walked into my apartment.”
Adrian sighed. “Technically, we didn't lie about everything.”
I turned toward him.
“Really?”
He raised both hands.
“Okay. Bad timing.”
“Very bad timing.”
Nikolai remained near the window, watching the dark street outside.
“What are you looking at?” I asked.
“Nothing.”
“That answer is getting old.”
His eyes moved toward me.
“Someone was watching the house.”
My stomach dropped.
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Roman immediately walked toward the window.
Nikolai caught his arm.
“Don't.”
Roman stopped.
“Why?”
“Because if someone is watching us, they want us to know.”
Silence.
I looked between them.
“What does that mean?”
“It means,” Nikolai said quietly, “we're already playing their game.”
I hated how calm he sounded.
Like this was normal.
Like people watching your house, sending threatening messages, and resurrecting dead parents were just part of an ordinary Tuesday.
I rubbed my forehead.
“I want answers.”
Roman looked at me.
“You'll get them.”
“No. I want them now.”
His expression hardened.
“Elena, your father is not the only person who survived that night.”
I froze.
“What?”
Adrian stopped joking.
Nikolai finally turned away from the window.
Roman continued.
“The attack seven years ago was supposed to kill everyone connected to Victor.”
“My mother survived.”
“Yes.”
“My father survived.”
“Yes.”
I swallowed.
“Who else?”
Roman didn't answer immediately.
That pause told me everything.
“There was another survivor,” I whispered.
Roman nodded.
“Who?”
Before he could answer, every light in the house went out.
I screamed.
Something crashed downstairs.
Roman grabbed my wrist.
“Stay behind me.”
“I'm not a child.”
“I know.”
His voice was unusually soft.
“That's why I'm asking you.”
Adrian pulled a gun from beneath his jacket.
I stared at him.
“Where did you even get that?”
He glanced at the weapon.
“Long story.”
“Everything with you is a long story.”
“I'm complicated.”
“You're annoying.”
He smiled faintly.
“Nice to know you're still you.”
A gunshot exploded downstairs.
The smile disappeared from his face.
“Stay here.”
Roman moved first.
Nikolai followed.
Adrian looked at me.
“If anything happens, run.”
“Where?”
He thought about it.
“Honestly?”
“Yes.”
“I haven't planned that part.”
I stared at him.
“You're terrible at comforting people.”
“It's a gift.”
Then he disappeared after the others.
I stood alone in the darkness.
My breathing became louder.
I could hear footsteps somewhere below.
Then another shot.
I backed toward the wall.
A floorboard creaked behind me.
I turned sharply.
Nobody.
“Roman?”
Nothing.
“Adrian?”
Silence.
“Nikolai?”
A hand suddenly covered my mouth.
I struggled.
The person pulled me backward.
I kicked hard.
He grunted.
I bit his palm.
He cursed and released me.
I spun around and saw a man standing in the darkness.
Black clothes.
Black mask.
A silver ring on his finger.
The same ring I had seen in the photograph of my father.
My blood went cold.
“Who are you?”
The man didn't answer.
Instead, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small photograph.
He dropped it at my feet.
I picked it up.
My hands began shaking.
It was a picture of my mother.
Alive.
Older than I remembered.
Standing beside a little girl.
A little girl who wasn't me.
I stared at the photograph.
“Who is that?”
The masked man finally spoke.
“You.”
My breath caught.
“No.”
“You were never an only child.”
I couldn't breathe.
“What are you talking about?”
He stepped closer.
“Your father didn't disappear to protect you, Elena.”
“Then why?”
“He disappeared to protect the other daughter.”
My fingers tightened around the photograph.
“Other daughter?”
The man nodded.
“Your sister.”
The word hit me harder than any bullet.
“My mother had another child?”
“She did.”
“Where is she?”
The man smiled beneath his mask.
“Ask your father.”
Then he turned toward the window.
“Wait!”
I grabbed his arm.
He shoved me away.
I hit the wall.
By the time I recovered, he was gone.
Roman rushed into the room.
“Elena!”
He caught me before I fell.
“Are you hurt?”
“My sister.”
Roman froze.
His eyes changed.
“You heard him.”
“You knew.”
He said nothing.
“You knew I had a sister.”
“Elena…”
“You knew!”
Adrian and Nikolai entered behind him.
Adrian's face had gone pale.
Nikolai looked at the photograph in my hand.
“Where did you get that?”
“A man was here.”
Roman took the picture.
He stared at it for several seconds.
Then he looked at Nikolai.
Nikolai's expression said everything.
“You knew too,” I whispered.
Nobody answered.
Tears filled my eyes.
“How many secrets does my family have?”
Roman stepped toward me.
I moved away.
“Don't.”
“Elena.”
“Don't touch me.”
He stopped.
I looked at the photograph again.
My mother.
A little girl.
Me.
Two daughters.
One missing.
And suddenly, something else caught my attention.
There was a date written at the bottom of the photograph.
September 17.
Seven years ago.
The same night my father supposedly died.
The same night my mother disappeared.
My phone suddenly vibrated.
Unknown number.
One message.
YOUR SISTER IS ALIVE.
Another message arrived immediately.
AND SHE KNOWS WHO KILLED YOUR FATHER.
I stared at the screen.
Then a final message appeared.
SHE'S COMING FOR YOU.
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