Liliana
The moment the door closed behind Mikhail, I felt like I couldn't breathe.
Anastasia was humming again. That same soft tune she'd been humming all day. It was starting to make my skin crawl.
"He's a good man," she said, settling into her chair. "Just like his father was at that age."
"Yeah," I managed to say, my voice barely above a whisper.
"You love him very much, don't you?" She asked softly.
I looked at her, studying her face. Those kind eyes, the gentle smile. She looked like someone's grandmother, not someone who would ever hurt Mikhail and me.
"More than anything," I said.
"I can see that. The way you look at him... it reminds me of how I used to look at someone once."
"Who?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. It never crossed my mind that someone like Anastasia Volkova,
