Page 63 of Her Darkest Possession
I turn to Anatoly, our eyes meeting in perfect understanding. "Tolya," I say softly, "say the words."
Anatoly nods, his face solemn as he turns to his mother. "Eto eyo prikaz," he says firmly.
Valentina jolts to her feet, sending her chair toppling backward with a crash. Her face contorts with a fury unlike anything I've seen before - even worse than when she cornered me with Vassily.
"You have no right!" She points her finger at me. "No right to make such a judgment! You're nothing but a common whore who spread her legs for my son!"
Her chest heaves with each ragged breath, her perfectly manicured hands curling into claws on the tabletop. "You can'tdo this to me. I have endured and sacrificed for this family for a lifetime when you've only been here for weeks!"
Despite her rage, I remain seated, my hands folded calmly in my lap. The storm of her anger washes over me, but I refuse to be moved by it.
"You know nothing," she continues, her voice cracking with emotion. "Nothing about what it takes to be a real pakhan's wife!"
I meet her gaze steadily. "You're right," I say, my voice soft but clear. "I don't know everything yet. But I will learn."
I rise slowly to my feet, placing one hand protectively over my stomach. "And yes, I might make mistakes along the way. But I will make them with my husband by my side." I look over at Anatoly, drawing strength from his unwavering support. "And above all, I will do so knowing that I am still capable of mercy, something that you have forgotten."
Valentina's wild eyes dart to Vassily, who stands frozen beside her.
"Vasya," she pleads, her voice suddenly softer, manipulative. "Say something. Do something. Talk some sense into your brother! Don't let him do this to me!"
Vassily shifts uncomfortably, looking between his mother and Anatoly. For a moment, I wonder if he'll falter, if his loyalty to his mother will override his oath to Anatoly.
But then he straightens his shoulders, his face settling into a resolute expression.
"Mother," he says quietly, "Anatoly is the pakhan, and Indigo is the pakhan's wife. It is not up to me to defy their orders."
Panic finally settles into Valentina's eyes as she realizes she's truly lost. Her last ally has abandoned her. She screams, a primal sound of rage and fear that makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up.
"You'll regret this!" she shrieks, her composure completely shattered. "Both of you! You're making a mistake you can never undo!"
Anatoly rises slowly from his chair, his face impassive. "Perhaps one day we will," he says calmly. "But that day is not today."
He turns to Vassily. "Escort Valentina Ivanovna off the grounds."
18
INDIGO
ONE WEEK LATER
I curlup on the window seat beside Amara, watching her face as she nervously awaits my reaction to her essay. The afternoon light catches in her dark red hair, making it glow like embers. I've read through her Columbia application essay twice now, my heart squeezing tight at how beautifully she's captured our struggles over the past few years.
"So... what do you think?" Amara asks, fidgeting with the sleeve of her sweater.
I hand the pages back to her with a gentle smile. "It's beautiful. Really. The prose is excellent."
Her face brightens instantly. "Really? You think it's that good?"
"I do," I say, carefully choosing my words. "But I think you're missing an opportunity here."
"What do you mean?" Her forehead creases with worry.
I shift closer, tucking one leg underneath me. "You've written so much about losing Mom and Dad, and about almost losing me... but this essay is supposed to be about you."
"But it is about me," she protests.
"I don't know if the admissions committee will see it that way." I tap the second page. "Look at this section. You've spent three paragraphs describing how you worried about me, but only two sentences on how you managed to keep your grades up while dealing with everything."
