Page 35 of Deadly Knight
Ivan Volkov.
Dear Diary,
Dear. Like how I’m thinking positively?
We’ve arrived in Toronto and are staying at a hotel. Mama and Papa did a virtual house tour with the assistance of a local realtor and are pretty sure they’ve found one they want, but need to see it in person before signing. That’s tomorrow’s plan.
It’s huge here. Everything is so loud, but it feels lively, and that’s what I’m clinging to.
In two days, we’ll be touring my school’s campus, and I’m excited for it, considering it’s one reason we’re here. To LIVE.
I miss him. I think of him constantly. The flight overseas physically made me sick.
Every time I close my eyes, I relive ourgoodbye, and if not him, thenthatnight. It’s the reminder why this is the better path.
I wonder what he’s doing right now.
Dear Diary,
My last entry got skewed, but you should know the positive impacts of leaving Russia. The nightmares continue existing—doubt they’re going anywhere—but being across the ocean has been helping. My nightmares are memories, not concerns they’ll find me again. That they’ll break into our house and kidnap me and repeat grad night.
Although, tell that to the scratches on my arms.
The cuts.
Please don’t judge me. I never thought I’d be that person. But it helps.
House. Oh, they signed for one and moved in almost right away. The previous owners had already cleared out.
Yesterday, we visited the campus and toured the dorm rooms. It’s a beautiful place. And you know what? No one looked at me and knew what happened. Everyone was strangers to one another. It wasnice knowing not one of those people worked for the Bratva and would report back to Ivan.
I wonder what Dimitri is doing. Hopefully his sleep has been better than mine.
Diary,
It’s been a month.
I’m okay.
Ish.
Okay-ish.
Not really, but I want to be.
Thing is… I don’t know if I can do this anymore. Like Dimitri, I have to put you in my past as well. Every time I touch this book,thatnight overtakes all the months of prior entries, of mainly positive things. One night destroyed so much, and writing in you brings it all back.
Doesn’t help I almost always reread the entries of my brokenhearted debates to leave Dimitri or not.
It’s too much, and, truthfully, getting better won’t be possible with the reminders.
So this is it. This is the last time I write in you. You’ve been a good friend, always willing to listen, butto embrace the future and discover who I am, you’re a symbol of my past.
I’m sorry.
Maybe one day, I’ll open this book and will note what life’s become.
Goodbye.
