Page 76 of Betraying Family Vows
"When you told me about your father," he begins, "you said he wasn't really in your life. That he didn't acknowledge you publicly."
I nod once, wary of where this is going.
"Then why?" His gaze doesn't waver. "Why go to all this trouble to avenge him? Why risk everything when you barely knew him? Why care so much about a man who didn't care enough to claim you?"
I open my mouth, then close it again. Because I don't have an easy answer. I look away, then back at him.
"That's..." My voice comes out rough. I clear my throat and try again. "That's something I've been asking myself a lot."
He doesn't say anything. Just waits.
"He wasn't completely absent. When I was a kid, he was around. Not all the time. Not like other fathers. But certain times of year, my birthday mostly, Christmas sometimes, he'd show up." My throat tightens. "He'd bring presents. Tell me I was special. And my mother, God, she made it all sound so noble. Like it was a sacrifice we were making. Being hidden."
I smile at a memory. "When I was twelve, he sent this ridiculous crystal music box that played 'Swan Lake.' My mother said it was too expensive to keep out, but I insisted. I played that thing until the mechanism broke."
Dimitri tilts his head, studying me.
"My mother and I would sneak away to see him sometimes too. Never anywhere public, of course. He'd rent private dining rooms in restaurants, or we'd meet at empty beach houses he owned." I swallow past the lump forming in my throat. "My mother always sold it as 'this is how it has to be.' So I didn't question it. What child does?"
I take a shaky breath. "When I got older, I started to realize how fucked up it was. That he had another family somewhere else. That he'd never planned to..." I pause. "I just pushed it out of my head because it depressed me. And in that depression, I attached to my mom more. Since he made her happy, in her own dysfunctional way, then that was okay."
Dimitri stays quiet, and I feel a need to continue.
"But when my mother took her own life," I say, "all that came back. All that emptiness. And I... I don't know. It felt like I owed her something. Like if I couldn't save her, I could at least fight for something she believed in. Even if it was a lie."
I shake my head and look at him. "It became like a duty. Not something I wanted deeply, but something I feel I owed her. To be something. Fight for something." I laugh. "However stupid that sounds."
"It's not stupid," Dimitri says, surprising me. "I understand. I've done a lot of things that didn't make sense. Out of duty. Out of obligation. It's been most of my life." He pauses. "But this, being here with you, it's the first time I've wanted to do something because I wanted it. That's new for me."
The breath leaves my lungs all at once. I feel warmth in my chest at his words. We look at each other across the desk, andfor a moment, I see us as we could be, not as we've been. Not victim and killer. Not captor and captive. Just two people finding something unexpected in each other.
For a moment, there's nothing between us but that terrible, perfect truth.
He then slides the phone across the desk to me.
"Go ahead," he says. His tone is steady, but there's something almost raw in his eyes. "Try again."
He stands. "I'll grab coffee. Try not to break anything while I'm gone."
His tone is light, almost teasing, and it makes me smile. He pauses at the door, looking back at me for a second before he leaves.
I stare at the phone in my hand, turning it over. Six attempts before it locks for another five hours.
Six chances.
Please,I think.Just this once. Let me be enough.
I think about what I know about passwords. They're usually something personal, something you won't forget. Birthdays. Anniversaries. Names of pets.
An idea pops into my head and I try it without second-guessing myself.
The phone flashes red. Five attempts remaining.
My palms start to sweat.
I try another code, something more likely. His birthday.
Another red flash. Four attempts left.
