Page 133 of Blood & Snow
"But it's over."
And when his job is done, I'm done.
She stands and crosses to me, pulling me into an embrace that feels as refreshing as the first warm morning in spring.
She smells faintly of hospital soap but more likeMamochka'sfavorite shampoo.
I let myself sink into her warmth, memorizing the feeling of being held by someone who loves me without conditions or expectations.
"We'll figure out the money," she whispers against my hair.
"I can pick up extra shifts at the hospital. Maybe you can find something during the day, office work or retail."
Office work.
Retail.
The normalcy of it feels foreign after months of scrubbing blood from crime scenes and lying to everyone.
Can I return to a world where the most dangerous thing I encounter is a difficult customer or a malfunctioning copy machine?
"Mamochka, Aunty Nadya!"
Anya's voice rings from the living room.
"Come look at the tree!"
We separate, and I follow Irina toward the bright display that dominates our small living space.
The tree towers over everything with branches so wide you almost can't walk around it.
Beneath them, wrapped packages crowd together in neat rows.
Anya and Mikhail kneel beside the gifts, their faces bright with excitement and expectation.
They've been good about not touching, not shaking boxes or peeling back tape corners, but I know the feeling of being anxious and excited.
I remember being a child creeping beneath the yolka days beforeNovy Godto snoop.
Nostalgia hits hard.
"Can we open one?" Mikhail asks, his blue eyes hopeful.
"Just one? There are so many."
Irina looks at me, eyebrows raised in question.
The tradition has always been to wait until New Year's Eve, but the mountain of presents makes our usual restraint seem cruel.
I smile at them and feel my heart strings being tugged.
They, after all, are the only reason I went out to get that damn job to begin with.
"One each," I concede.
Their joy is immediate and infectious.
Anya dives toward the pile, searching for the perfect choice, while Mikhail stands paralyzed by the abundance of options.
