Natasha
My mother is home, which means I’m in my bedroom pretending to read a book. I just want to be alone while I lick my wounds.
I didn’t want to tell her about what happened last week. If I had, she would want to move us out of this building by the end of the day. Me getting mixed up in bratva business is her worst nightmare.
But not telling her makes it impossible to function around her. I’m still grieving. It may have only been a week, but the intensity was unmatched. I fell in love and had my heart broken all at once, and it’s not easy to bounce back from that.
An unknown number comes through my phone, and I pick it up. I don’t feel like talking to anyone, but it could be a new client.
“This is Natasha.”
“Hi Natasha, this is George Engels, head of admissions at the Illinois Sc
