Page 87 of Shattered Cradle (Makarova Bratva Duet)

I listen for footsteps, for the telltale creaking of the bones of the house that says someone is up and moving. But there’s nothing. Just me and my breathing and my anxiety and my fear.

Before I can second-guess myself any further, I swipe open my phone and dial my brother.

Please, please, please, please, please.

I can’t really explain the refrain in my head.Please what?I’m not sure. But please something.

Brrring.

Brrring.

Click—“Liv.”

“Rob,” I breathe. It feels like two tons have been lifted on my shoulders just to hear him say my name without the tinge of hatred.

We’re quiet for a moment, just breathing together, coexisting. “It doesn’t feel real, does it?” I ask eventually.

He sighs. “No, it doesn’t.”

“Is that why you left the funeral so fast?”

“Not the only reason,” he says. “I wasn’t really in the mood to deal with a lot of stupid questions from a bunch of nosy relatives.”

“And what about your sisters? Were you in the mood to deal with us?”

With me,I want to clarify. But Rob knows what I mean.

“You had your security detail with you. I didn’t figure you needed me.”

“Okay, so you did see me there. I wasn’t sure.”

There’s a beat of silence. I swallow my resentment. I’m not interested in fighting. That’s not why I called.

“It’s okay, Rob,” I say before he can speak. “Honestly, I get why neither one of you wanted to be near me.”

“I’m sorry, Liv,” he says abruptly. “I… It wasn’t really about you. I just couldn’t be there for long. I should have stood by you, though.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

“I mean it. Mia had Donald. But you… you were standing all by yourself and—”

“I wasn’t all by myself,” I say quickly. “I was with Demyan.”

“He isn’t family.”

He’s my family now. The thought jumps into my head all at once. When Demyan said it at the cemetery, I didn’t really believe him.

But I’m beginning to.

I decide not to say that out loud, though. Baby steps. “I was fine.”

“I didn’t really think, you know?” he says softly. “I just wanted to be there when they lowered her down.”

“Her body,” I correct instinctively.

“What?”

“She wasn’t really in that casket, Rob,” I say, reminding myself of what Dad and Mom believed. “Her soul left her body long before the funeral.”

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