Page 76 of Emerald Malice

They’re not the ones treating me like a possession instead of a person.

In fact, all of them have been really sweet to me lately. Leonty is always kind no matter how snippy I get. Leif makes sure I have everything I need and then some. Olaf has taken to bringing me flowers in the morning for the vase I keep by my bedside. Even Anatoly has learned to smile at me like he means it, which, given where we started in the facial expression department, is leaps and bounds of improvement.

“It’s Katya,” I admit.

“Made up with her then, did you?”

It’s not something we’ve ever really discussed, but Leonty’s no fool. Katya’s glaring absence from my life obviously signified a breakdown in our friendship.

“Sort of. Don’t tell Andrey anything.”

Leonty gives me a shifty look that I decide to ignore, but to his credit, he doesn’t press any more.

When we approach Burning Bird, Leonty tells me he’ll be hanging out by the window counter. True to his word, he saunters off to give me some privacy.

I’m waiting only a minute or two when Katya flies through the door in a camel-colored mini-skirt and a white tank. It looks like she sprinted all the way here.

“I’m here!” she announces, rushing up to the table and throwing her sweaty arms around me.

“Why are you so sweaty?”

“I ran down the street. Stupid cabbie dropped me off two blocks over.” She slips into the booth opposite me. “It’s so good to see you. You look great.”

She’s laying it on thick. But she does look legitimately happy to see me.

“Thanks for agreeing to meet me,” she adds. “I was—We were—I mean, I’m just glad. Yeah. Thanks.”

The last few months’ worth of distance is thick right now. I’m not used to not knowing how to act around Katya. I hide my awkwardness behind the menu while she catches her breath.

“Nat?”

When I look up from the menu, Kat’s looking at me with wide, earnest eyes. I know we’re gonna skip right over the small talk.

“The last time we spoke face to face, you said something—” Her eyes dart around the table nervously. “—and it’s stayed with me. Tortured me, really.”

“What did I say?”

“You said, and I quote, ‘I went through something that night. And I’m not sure it can be undone.’”

My throat clams up.

“Were you just fucking with me or did you mean it?”

I feel immediately guilty—but I didn’t lie to her. “I…”

Kat leans forward and seizes my hands between hers. “Oh my God—does it have anything to do with the Kuznetsovs?” she asks. “Because I swear to God, Nat, I genuinely didn’t believe Viktor’s bullshit about his family. Crime ring, guns, drugs, all that shit—yeah fucking right, you know? It wasn’t until later, until you said what you said, that I started digging into the Kuznetsovs. And I realized how wrong I was.”

Her cheeks are a blotchy red now. She raises her hand to her chin and I spy the picked-to-pieces nails that she’s tried to conceal under layers of bright red polish.

“You’ve started biting your nails again.”

Too late, she tries to hide her hands under the table.

“Because of me?” I ask.

She sighs heavily. “No. Because of me. Because I’ve been an idiot lately and I’m woman enough to admit it.”

“Since when?”

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