Svetlana looks up at the rearview mirror in annoyance and swears. "I wasn't even speeding!"
She pulls over to the shoulder and rolls down her window as the officer approaches.
Something doesn’t feel right. “Be careful, Svetlana.”
“Don’t worry,” she says. “I can take care of myself.”
"Step out of the vehicle, ma'am," the officer says once he reaches the car.
She makes a face as she does so, sighing exaggeratedly with every motion.
But moment Svetlana clears the door, the cop pulls his gun and fires. The sound is deafening in the morning quiet. Svetlana crumples to the pavement, a bloom of red spreading underneath her.
No!
Amara's scream pierces my ear. The cop swings his weapon toward the car and points it at her.
"Shut up!" he barks. "Both of you, or you're next!"
"Amara, do as he says!" I tell her.
This can't be happening. This can't be fucking happening!
"You." He points his gun at me. "Out. Now."
My legs are heavy as I open the door. The pavement seems to sway beneath my feet.
It feels like I'm walking into a living nightmare from my past. And there's no way to wake up.
The officer's gun remains trained on me as my mind races. I spare a glance at Svetlana on the ground. She's not moving, and there's so much blood. Is she alive? Please don't let her be dead. Please don't someone else die because of me. My stomach turns.
"Please..." I whisper, my hands raised. "My sister?—"
"Get in that car." He jerks his head toward a black SUV that's pulled up behind his patrol car. "Get in or I shoot the brat too."
This feeling... I've been here before. Powerless. My body moving on autopilot while my mind screams.
The world narrows to pinpricks of sensation: the crunch of gravel under my feet, the distant sound of traffic continuing as if nothing is happening, the morning sun suddenly feeling ice-cold on my skin.
The back door of the SUV swings open when I approach, and I blink when I recognize the faces inside.
Lola's blonde hair catches the morning light. Grisha sits in the passenger seat with a dark grin playing on his lips.
I glance back at Amara. Her face is barely visible through the rear window, but I can still see the tears streaming down her cheeks. Then, the cop moves his gun from me and aims it at her, and I know that I have to do this.
I get in the SUV.
The door slams shut beside me with a finality that makes my heart drop. Lola's perfectly manicured fingers tap against her thigh as she studies me, her smile spreading slowly across her face like poison.
"Did you really think you could keep your little secret from us?" she asks, each word dripping with satisfaction.
My blood turns to ice. Secret? Which secret?
The NDA about what happened with Grant?
Or the fact that I'm pregnant with Anatoly's child?
I can't give her anything. Not a single reaction that might tell her what she wants to know.