Page 37 of Tracking Shadows

“But you’re okay with letting what happened to you happen to someone else again? You’re okay with these kids ending up in a place like this?”

No, I’m not okay with it.

The words freeze in my throat. I feel them clawing at me, but I can’t get them out. His accusation cuts deeper than I expected, reopening wounds I thought I had buried. I want to shout at him, tell him to stop, but the words won’t come.

“That’s not fair,” I say, my voice shaky, weak. “This isn’t about me.”

“Isn’t it?” He stands up, slamming his fist on the table. “It’s exactly about you! You, of all people, know what this does to someone. What Sergei did to your family, he’s doing to hundreds of others! Are you really going to sit there and let him keep going?”

“I’m not the fucking savior of the world!” I shout back, standing up to meet him. “I’m not my father, Alexei. I don’t do this shit. I never wanted to. And I’m sure as hell not going to getkilled because you think we can take down a whole operation by ourselves!”

“You think I don’t get it?” he yells, his face flushed with anger. “You think I don’t understand what’s at stake? I know damn well we could die, but you know what? I’d rather go down trying to stop this than sit around and pretend it’s not happening!”

“I’m not pretending it’s not happening!” My chest heaves.I’m just pretending it doesn’t affect me.“But I’m not going to risk everything for some fucking fantasy where we save the world. People like Sergei . . . you don’t just cut off the head and watch it all fall apart. Another one grows in its place. That’s how this shit works.”

“You don’t know that. You don’t know unless you try.”

I don’t have to know. I’ve seen it. I’ve lived it.

I bite the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood. “I watched my father die because he thought he could be a hero. He wanted to save people, and look where it got him and the rest of us.”

The words are out before I can stop them, my voice breaking as the memories flood back.

I’m not that strong. I’m not him.

“He spent his whole life chasing Sergei, and what did it get him? A bullet in the head. And now you want me to follow in his footsteps? You want me to throw my life away, too?”

His jaw clenches. “I want you to care. I want you to see that we may have a chance to make a difference.”

“A difference?” I laugh, but it’s hollow, cold. “You think we’re going to stop all of this? With what? A couple of guns and a plan? You’re fucking delusional, Alexei. This doesn’t end. Ever.”

He steps closer, his face inches from mine now. “You’re afraid.”

I flinch.

Am I?

“I’m not afraid.”

“Bullshit.” He’s right in front of me now. “You’re scared shitless, and that’s why you’re backing out. Because if you admit we can do something, you’ll have to face the fact that maybe, just maybe, you’re not as broken as you think you are.”

“Fuck you,” I snap, shoving him away. “You don’t know anything about me.”

He grabs my wrist, holding me in place. “I know more than you think.”

Don’t make me face this.

I try to pull away, but his grip tightens. “Let go.”

“Not until you stop running.”

“I’m not running.”

“Yes, you are.” His voice softens, but the intensity in his eyes remains. “You’ve been running since the day your parents died. You built these walls, Irina. You think they’re keeping you safe, but all they’re doing is trapping you inside.”

I yank my arm free, my hands trembling now. “I’m not running. I’m surviving. There’s a difference.”

“Surviving?” He shakes his head slowly. “This isn’t surviving. This is hiding. You’re hiding from everything because you’re too fucking scared to face it.”

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