Page 114 of Voracious

It can’t be. He called me a different name and he cares about his family.

He has a daughter, and he loves her, protects her.

If he’s my dad why didn’t he do that for me? Because I’m evil?

No, he’s confused. I’m right.

Shaking my head to build my conviction, it fits itself between my anger as I say, “You don’t know anything.”

His frustration comes out and he takes a step back, grabbing his head with both hands. I feel bad about his daughter if she’s real, but it’s not me. There’s real pain on Vlad’s face and in his voice as he shouts things that are making me question the world.

“You have a scar on your shoulder, the size of my thumb because I couldn’t wait outside anymore when I heard you cry and the dickhead doctor was shaking so he ended up fucking cutting you.”

He takes a step closer.

“I know that I called you solnyshkuh because you were born at the exact time the sun came up.”

Another step.

I take one back.

“You slept in the same crib as Tali, and he would tap your shoulder when you’d cry during the night. He always gave you his finger to hold when you were falling asleep and you wouldn’t let go of it, all through the night you’d hold it.”

My eyes go behind him and Tali stares at me with watery eyes.

“Valentin would tickle your left foot, not your right one because you hated it and you would kick him in the face. He’d pretend to smell your feet and you’d laugh when he’d pull a face like it smelt bad but then he’d tickle you and that laugh would get louder.”

Looking at Val, he’s the same with unblinking watery eyes.

“I know when he’d have a tantrum you’d pull his hair and refuse to let go until he kissed your cheek. He’d pretend to cry but you wouldn’t stop pulling. He’d always whine and say ‘Vanya, hurting’ but you would only let go when he kissed your cheek.”

Something warm touches my cheek, and he takes another step closer.

“You’d giggle. At everything, my happy baby girl.”

Shut up!

“I know that you always smiled at me. Even when you were sick, you’d open those eyes and fucking smile. Every. Time.”

My back touches a cold wall and a scream is ripped from my throat.

“Shut the fuck up!”

Stop lying.I need him to stop. It doesn’t make sense. It’s wrong. That’s not me. She was cared for, loved. I wasn’t.

I know things, I know who I am now, Dima knows too. I look at him and he’s moved with me, his arm is still in front of me, and he’s lost like me. I’m not real, I’m a ghost again.

No, I’m Ana, Yulia named me.

Vlad hardens and he grows taller, eclipsing everything in sight with his roar as he slams his hand against his chest. “I know your name isn’t Ana. It’s Vanya because I fucking gave you it!” His face falls, breathing heavy, as he achingly whispers, “You’re my gift, my Vanya.”

He’s wrong.

I have proof and my hands shake as I push my bag off my shoulders. I have proof. B. Vanya isn’t a B. It’s real and not made up because I can hold it in my hand. Dima strokes my back as I empty the pocket and hold up the small scrap of fabric, clutching it like a lifeline to my sanity.

“B, not V. You’re wrong.”

Everything moves closer to me, and I try to make myself smaller by bringing my shoulders forward. Dima doesn’t, he gets bigger and protectively stands by my side, his shoulder covering mine, but he doesn’t block my face as he keeps his arm outstretched like a bar.

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