Page 115 of Voracious

Vlad moves his head to see the torn blanket. His lips curve up in a genuine smile, no malice, as he says, “That was your corner, Valentin would always steal your blanket from you, and you only ever wanted that corner. You would rub the frills between your fingers.”

I’m seeing things because water pushes against his lower lashes as he rubs his thumb and forefinger together, reliving a memory I wasn’t in.

A hoarse croak has me looking towards Val and he shatters everything as he says, “I gave it to Viktor when he was born.” He swallows around a lump in his throat and his voice lowers to a whisper. “It doesn—doesn’t have a corner.”

No, he’s wrong. Anything could have happened. I’m arguing with myself but I hold it up so they can see as I look at each of them individually. “It has a B on it.”

Val nods and his eyes are red as I repeat, “Look, a B.” He nods and sniffs once as I move on to Tali. His eyes are redder, matching the tip of his nose. “B?” He does the same nod as he shakily breathes.

Vlad stares at me, each second forces more reflections on his eyeballs and he silently begs me. I hold it higher and my voice lowers, begging him in return, begging all of them.

“It has a B on it.”

He shouts for a pen without looking away from me and Tali passes him a marker. Vlad looks away from me for the first time as he draws on his palm.Once he’s done playing tic tac toe on himself, he turns his hand around and I can’t read it.

????

The plea in his voice is fucking with my head.

“Vanya, Cyrillic not a B. I wrote your name on it so they wouldn’t take it off you. It was your corner, and Valentin would steal it because he thought it was funny until you’d start pulling his hair and trying to bite him. Vanya. Not B.”

I shake my head, holding the torn edge of the blanket up with two hands so they can all see. “It has a B on it. B, not Vanya, B.”

Dima remains a silent wall at my side as he slowly drops his arm and Vlad steps forward, still begging.

“I can tell you the exact day I gave it to you. How you’d play with the frills,” a weak smile lifts his lips, “silk, that’s what they’re made from. You liked the feeling of it and all three of you would lay on it when I’d put you on my bed.”

Vlad moves closer, leaving a two-foot gap as the walls close in on me, and another beg confuses me.

“Vanya, I wrote it, look,” he pushes his palm towards me, “it’s my writing. I wrote it.”

There’s only one person I trust, and I look up at Dima. He has red eyes too but he slowly nods his head once, sadness pulling his features down and lowers his voice.

“It’s in Russian, it says Vanya.”

All the air is sucked out of the room, and I close my eyes because they’re all lying.It has to be a lie, if I’m not B or Ana then I really am a ghost. I’m not a person, I’m not real.

Hands touch me that aren’t Dima’s, they try to pull me into an embrace but only manage to drag my anger out as I swing, pushing them away. I don’t care who it is, Dima is beside me keeping me safe and tears blur my vision as I blink. There’s nothing but pain in my voice as I wipe them away with the back of my hand.

“Why did you leave me with them?”

I know Yulia would take advantage of people that way, but this is Vlad, he’s a killer.

He stands in front of me, a lump in his throat and pain in his eyes, as he takes in a deep breath then shakily blows it out, refusing to fucking answer me. I don’t care that he’s injured as I kick him in the thigh, screaming, “Tell me you’re a liar!”

Still no fucking answer. He’s like Marlo and this is another lie, it all started with Marlo lying about who my dad was and now it’s another lie about the same fucking topic. But he doesn’t hit me back, Vlad steps forward and softly smiles, waiting for another blow.

Vlad, the nutcase who threw me on the side of the road because I wouldn’t tell him my name isn’t the same emotional person in front of me. That Vlad wouldn’t be silent or allow me to hit him. He has marks on his face, his nose is broken, a cut swelling on his cheek, and I haven’t been hit back. Even Tali would hit me back if I did that to him.

But he doesn’t fucking answer me when I beg, “Did you sell me?”

Silence.

I take the gun from Dima’s holster and the click of the safety is like a gavel slamming down, demanding he gives me the truth. The psycho steps towards it as Val and Tali stare at each other, then Dima as though they’re asking him for help with the lost look on their faces.

Dima doesn’t stop me as I press the gun to the center of Vlad’s chest. Vlad, who doesn’t have any fear and his voice is the new, soft one as he smiles with watery eyes.

“Do it,” he nods, still softly smiling at me, “I buried myself with you once and I’ll die happy, knowing my daughters are safe.”

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