The Saint is following me. The garage is located in the left wing of the house; fortunately, I know how to unlock it. I also know where the car keys are kept. So, as soon as we step inside, I immediately dash to the dresser. I grab the keys for the SUV and throw them to Vlad.
— Are you going to help Mom? — he asks.
— Yes.
He nods and watches me as I head toward the door leading into the house. Once in the hallway, I rush up to the second floor, into Mom's bedroom. She's packing some things into a small suitcase while also packing my little brother's clothes. Timur doesn't understand anything at all; he’s just carrying what she requests from his room, staying silent, although I can immediately see a thousand questions in his little eyes.
I’m scared. It seems that if I hesitate for even a second, it will all be over, and we won’t make it. How long can Timur hold back Dad, who is raging over the deception? Probably not long.
I help Mom. We do everything in silence, listening for sounds from the yard. As soon as we hear Vlad starting the car, we flinch in unison.
— It’s okay, — I say quietly. — It’s the Saint.
Mom doesn’t say anything and doesn’t demand an immediate explanation. She’s used to avoiding unnecessary questions, patiently waiting for the information she considers relevant. This is all parental influence…
— Looks like that’s everything, — Sofia glances at me and my brother. — If we’re not gone long…
— I don’t know, Mom… — I sigh. — It’s not clear yet. Dad is probably very angry right now.
Mom’s green eyes are watching me closely, peering into mine, for the first time so deeply. The expression on her face reveals that she suddenly understands something — despite everything, her daughter has grown up. Unfortunately, not under the best life circumstances.
— I asked you not to save us, Julianna. You should think about yourself.
— And you? And him? — I glance at my brother. — The fact that Dad isn’t bothering him right now doesn’t mean he won’t later! Or have you not suffered enough? I don’t understand, Mom…
Sofia sighs. She approaches and hugs me. We stand for a while, then Timur steps between us and hugs both of us.
— Where are we going? — he asks.
— To a safe place, — I ruffle his light hair. — It will be nice there.
— Then let’s go, — Mom whispers. She smiles, so earnestly, as if she believes my words. If only I could believe them too.
She grabs the suitcase, I take Timur by the hand, and we exit the room. We head down, but before we can reach the door leading to the garage, the entrance suddenly unlocks, and an enraged dad freezes in the doorway. His gaze is mad, narrowed, studying us. We freeze between the stairs and the hallway. Mom cautiously steps forward toward him, while I grip Timur’s hand tighter. A sense of fear overwhelms me, even though Vlad is not far away.
Dad steps forward. Slowly and languidly, deliberately stretching the time and space around us.
— Where are you going? — he asks, feigning calm. — And you? — he looks at Mom, — did you come up with this plan with her? Ungrateful chickens!
We can’t speak. I can’t squeeze a word out of my mouth. A lump forms in my throat, and that’s it.
— Julianna is taking us to a place where it will be nice, — my brother speaks.
— Nice? — Dad moves closer. — Where exactly, son? — he asks in a feigned kind tone.
Timur lets go of my hand, seizing the moment when I’m distracted by fear rather than his safety.
— I don’t know. We won’t be long, Dad, — Timur’s tone lowers. He sees that Dad is angry.
— Hmm, — The Wild One looks at me. — Sofia, Timur, leave us alone.
— No! — Mom exclaims.
Panic squeezes my chest. To the point of pain. To a silent scream. I didn’t make it. I couldn’t handle it. This is a failure, and I’m to blame for it. My condition was Mom’s freedom. Maybe if Vlad had gone alone, and I with Timur, everything would have been different.
— Get out! — Dad grunts, and Mom, frightened, grabs Timur by the hand and runs toward the garage.
This cheers me up. The Saint is there; he won’t let them get hurt, I believe that.
Only a second, which stretches into eternity, passes. Dad stands in front of me and gives me a loud slap. The blow is much stronger than the one in his office when I simply showed that I didn’t want to be an obedient sheep.
— How dare you, with these two idiots! — he hisses.
I stand still. Only the pain pulses with a hot touch on my face. Tears stream down my cheeks, but I still stand. I don’t run away.
— I didn’t know the conditions, — I cut firmly, — but I’m glad they are like this. Now my main man. “AMB” is no longer yours, Dad! And I’m taking Mom and my brother. No more torment! — the words are full of emotion, yet sound quiet and hoarse. Out of fear.
— Didn’t know, of course, didn’t know! You’re just a silly, clumsy Julianna! How many times did you pay with your body for your brothers? Those two forced you to crawl, right, daughter? — he snarls contemptuously, angrily.
He hits again. This time, I fall to the floor. A gasp tears from my chest, but I hold it in to avoid scaring my brother, there behind the door.
— You would have anyway set me up with some smelly old man for your benefit, just as you sent me to Timur!
— Timur used me, yes, — Dad looms over me. — Played so well, but today when I found out that I no longer hold the controlling stake because you gave your shares to the Saint, he declared that his brother is the main! He’s just pulling the strings behind him! And this after agreeing not to touch their girl! After he gave his shares to you! Well played, you can’t deny it!
He grabs my hair and starts dragging me across the cold floor. The tiles are hard; it hurts everywhere. I try to cling to my strands to ease the pain, but it doesn’t work. A scream, full of panic, escapes from my throat.
— Let go!
Dad doesn’t listen. He pulls me further into the living room and there lifts me, forcing me to stand on my feet. I don’t have time to regain my senses before he hits my face again, this time with his fist.
— Whore! Not worthy of being my daughter! If I had known you’d grow up like this, oh, I would have sent you to a boarding school back then!
Pain everywhere. It feels like he’s becoming the center of my universe and life. I fall to my knees. Blood runs from my nose. I smear it across my face, trying not to lose consciousness. I cry, choking on emotions, physical hatred.
He hits me again. I don’t even understand at first where, it just starts to throb horrifically in my head. Now I don’t scream. The strength has left my body, and the spirit… the spirit was already weak. I only hope that the Saint has made it, and… and will come back for me. It would be wonderful if he returned for me…