Page 59 of Vicious Knight

He holds up my father’s ring and all the words I’ve ever known evaporate like mist from my mind.

Thorne waves the ring in front of me then holds it steady, as if he wants me to get a good look.

“You dropped this in the tunnel. It was in your bag, Ivy. Or is your name Annika?”

My heart is beating so fast and loud I’m sure everyone in the world can hear it. Along with the sound of my soul shattering against the floor of reality.

Oh. My. God.

No…

This isn’t happening.

I accidentally left the ring in my pouch. I’d taken it out of the box again when I couldn’t get to sleep. I put it in the pouch just as a temporary measure and I totally forgot.

I forgot. Now Thorne knows. But does he really?

Maybe I can still turn this around.

“I don’t know who that is. You know my name is Ivy.”

He gives me a mirthless smile that says don’t fuck with me then he touches the curve of my waist, tracing the edge with his thumb.

“That’s just the thing you want everyone to believe, isn’t it. Your birth certificate, passport and other documents are very convincing. Just as convincing as the death certificates for you and your mother.”

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

“That’s okay. I wouldn’t crack either. You’re in some serious trouble. I’d lie like my life depended on it, too, to save my family.” He nods with conviction and in his eyes I see truth, like he meant what he said.

He holds the ring up and reads the inscription on the band, “To my daughter Annika, love you forever. This ring is a symbol of Heiðr. The Norse word for honor. Families like the Bershovs would have taken part in the tradition of passing rings to their children. This one is yours from your father, Gustave Bershov.”

“No.” Tears pull at the backs of my eyes and I try to keep them away. I have to be strong. I have to, even though it’s tearing me apart that I’m denying my father.

“I hate lies, little deer, and they don’t suit you. They taint you and everything I like about you. So don’t lie to me.”

“Let me go.” My voice is small but brimming with the anguish stirring in my soul. “You are mistaken.”

Thorne stares at me as if he can see deep, deep, deep into my soul to the place where my secrets are stored away.

He reaches out and I think he’s going to touch me again but instead he picks up something from the nightstand.

It’s some documents.

He takes the first one and holds it out for me to see.

“This is from the official Knights report: Following the sentencing of Gustave Bershov for the murders of the members of the Russian Syndicate, the remains of his wife and daughter’s bodies were found in their home following a gas explosion,” he reads. “Their bodies were so badly burned they couldn’t be conclusively identified using forensic DNA recovery. The evidence, however, is strong enough to suggest the remains are theirs, so we are satisfied to list them as deceased.”

He looks back at me. I keep my poker face. I’ve never seen this report but Mom filled me in on everything Levgen did to save us.

“Levgen did this. He would have been the only person who could help you in this way. Your father was his best friend. I didn’t know that until I checked it out. He helped you and your mother escape from Russia.”

“No. Levgen met my mother at work here.”

Thorne flicks to the next document, which is a picture of me. Me at nine years old. He places it next to my face.

“Same silver eyes. Same silver hair. Same jawline, nose, mouth and the little mole on your left cheek. The computer generation thinks so, too.” He grabs another document, showing a computer-generated image of me next to my nine-year-old self on the right and on the left a picture of me now.

Anyone with eyes could see it’s the same person. Just nine years older.

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