Page 142 of Immaculate Deception (Romanoff Bratva)

The area around the bed and breakfast is mostly small antique shops and shopping malls—touristy destinations.

Then, suddenly, the line of trees to the left opens up.

“Oh my God!” Arya grabs my wrist and, with her other hand, points off to the side.

Just through the trees, water becomes visible. It’s set back far from the road, but there it is, reflecting the sun and the blue sky.

The shore.

I pull off at the next driveway and follow a gravel road through the trees to a parking lot cut into the trees. Down another path, I can see people setting up their equipment on the sand, laying out kayaks and life jackets, readying fishing poles.

Arya jumps out of the car and takes off at a sprint. I have to hurry to chase after her.

She skids to a stop on the sand and lifts her hands to her forehead, shielding her eyes from the sun as she scans the beach.

It’s a chilly day, so it’s not exactly a busy day. The beach is mostly filled with people who look like they are there to work out. No families or kids running and playing.

I see Arya’s shoulders drop and I almost reach for her to offer consolation—when two men carrying a kayak move forward.

Then, in the distance, I see a little girl with flaming red hair building a sand castle. On a blanket not far away, an old woman watches.

“It’s them!” Arya squeezes my wrist so tightly I’m afraid it’s going to break.

Then she’s gone, running down the beach again.

So much for keeping a low profile here. Everyone is watching us run dramatically down the beach. Arya doesn’t seem to mind and I don’t have it in me to stop her.

She deserves this.

“Ernestine?” Arya calls.

The woman on the blanket looks up, sees who it is, and then a smile spreads across her face. She claps her hands and points, and the little girl comes running across the sand and straight into Arya’s arms.

That would be June, I assume. She has the same red hair as her mother.

Arya props June up on her hip and carries her over to the blanket, even though she’s too big for such treatment.

I’m happy to have found him, but I hold back. The last time this family saw me, I was a threat. I’m the reason they ran away.

The little girl seems to notice me first, her eyes wary. I smile, but she doesn’t return it.

Wary. I like her already.

“This is Dima,” Arya says, waving me forward. “He’s… a friend.”

Ernestine’s eyes are slightly milky, but there’s a ferocity in them I admire. “Why were we running from him, then?”

“A misunderstanding.” Arya explains it away. I’m grateful for her ability to forgive. God knows I’m going to need that in the future. “Everything is fine now.”

Ernestine and June accept me more quickly than I expected. The conversation turns to how on earth we found them.

Arya relays the story, but it still doesn’t feel real. “Fate,” she concludes. “I don’t know. I just knew this is where you would be.”

“Thank God for that,” Ernestine says. “Because I had no idea what we were going to do next. We slept in the van last night and my back is killing me.”

The woman is already hunched forward, so I imagine she is in pain. She should not be sleeping in a car.

“We’ll make sure you have a bed tonight,” I assure her. “Everyone will have a shower and a bed.”

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