3Hours passed.
It was still cold even with the quilt. He tried to sleep and not cry, not think about how long he’d have to wait before Ivan came back. Before his father found him. And he tried not to think about how long they could hurt him before he got to die. Tears came and went, but he didn’t dwell on them; they were more of a reflex at this point.
A few more hours passed.
He was trying to get out of the ropes.
Not to save himself from his kidnappers, but because he really needed to piss.
Another hour.
And then the door opened.
It wasn’t Ivan.
“Hello?” The voice was careful, deep and wandering. The man who it belonged to was Dmitri, but Maria didn’t know that. He saw this tall, young man with bronze skin against black hair. He stepped purposefully into the space, but soon that
