Page 1 of Wounded Angel

Prologue

Xava

One Year Ago

I only recently found out I had some distant cousins in Chechnya. I haven’t had any extended family reach out to me, but I know that when you’re adopted, there are often cases where you don’t know anything about who you are. I was lucky enough to at least know I was adopted when a lot of people in my position wouldn’t even know that.

My life hasn’t been easy by any means, but even in the worst of times, I try to be as grateful as I can. I know there’s always someone out there who has it way worse than I do. As a child, I used to become so frustrated so easily. I clearly remember the day when my mother sat me down in our garden next to the roses and gave me a huge life lesson. She said there were many things for me to be thankful for and that I should let the small moments of frustration roll off my back like water because they weren’t worth the hassle. I was a kid, so I didn’t really understand what she was saying to me, but now I do. As an adult, I see how life isn’t so easy. It’s hard. If someone tells you their life isn’t hard, they’re lying straight through their teeth.

In regard to my adoption, I didn’t know my biological parents personally. My mother told me that she was related to my adoptive mother but didn’t give me any more information than that. I’ve had a hard time bringing up my adoption to my parents. It’s a subject that they never want to talk about, and as much as I try to learn more about where I came from, they have never wanted to dive into that with me.

I’m not asking to meet my biological mother or father. All I’m hoping to do is understand more about myself. My adoptive parents ended up leaving Chechnya after my adoption, and I’ve lived in the Czech Republic with them ever since. Prague is the only home I’ve ever known, yet it doesn’t feel like home to me. It feels like a place I’ve lived. I’ve never been able to connect with the city the way I always wanted to.

I guess that leads me to where I am today. I’ve just landed in Grozny, which is the capital of Chechnya. I’m here to finally meet my biological family. It was crazy to get a call this many years after my adoption. Long story short, they discovered who I was, that I even existed, and then they wanted to fly me out here so we could meet face-to-face. Honestly, that was a hard pill to swallow at first.

I don’t know these people, so how would I know if they were safe for me to be around? I tried to talk myself out of it simply because I was anxious about what could happen. I debated whether I really wanted to know more about where I came from. I don’t even know why there was a question in the back of my mind about it. For so long, I had wondered about them, what they were like, what I would have been like if I had grown up in Grozny, and what my life would have been like if I had never been adopted. The last thing I wanted to do was live with any regrets, so I agreed to come.

I agreed to fly to a place I’d never been to so I could learn more about them and, quite frankly, more about me. It feels like a piece of me has been missing for years, and I think this visit will help me understand more about myself.

Everything is so different here. Now, in Prague, there are so many different kinds of people. I mainly see Ukrainians, Eastern Europeans, and a few other nationalities in the city. It’s also a big tourist spot. I’ve only ever seen a couple of women wearing hijabs, but as I’m walking through the private airport, I notice about half of the women are wearing hijabs. Some of the cloths are black, but others are color coordinated with their outfits, which is pretty cool.

I pull my small carry-on luggage along behind me, thankful that it has wheels, and look around the small airport. I was told that someone would be here to pick me up. I notice a few men in suits standing around the place, and one of them approaches me.

He walks slowly, looking me up and down just to be sure I’m the person he’s looking for. “Ms. Beno, my name is Rolando. I’m here to be your driver and your security detail while you’re visiting.”

Rolando looks to be in his early thirties. He has dark espresso hair, and his eyes are light hazel. They’re beautiful, really, with the way the green and the burned bronze combine. “It’s great to meet you, Rolando, and please call me Xava. Ms. Beno is entirely too formal,” I tell him, but what I don’t say is how relieved I am that he speaks English. I was so worried he was going to be speaking the old Chechen language, which I don’t know any of. It’s surprising, considering my parents are from here. You’d think they’d want to teach me their language, but it was quite the opposite.

“Please come with me.” Rolando gives me a curt nod, takes my luggage, and leads me through the airport. It’s much smaller than most of the airports I’m used to. Once we’re outside, he leads me to an SUV with blacked-out windows. He unlocks the vehicle, opens my door for me, and even puts my luggage in the back of the SUV. I get inside the vehicle, and Rolando shuts my door. Shortly afterward, he slides behind the wheel, and we’re off.

I stare out of the window the entire time, looking at the city that could have easily been my home in another life. I often wonder what would have happened if I wasn’t adopted. Would I be wearing a hijab? Would I have a boyfriend? Would I know everything there is to know about my family? I’d like to hope so. I even hope that my family members are kind. I’m a bit anxious to meet them today, though I know it’s going to be good for me. There’s even a small part of me that hopes they’ll be able to give me some information about my birth parents. That’s why I really accepted this invitation to come here.

I didn’t even tell my parents I was coming to Grozny. I told them my friend Dominika was going to Greece for a week and invited me to go with her. Right now, they think I’m on a beach somewhere with one of my best friends. I, of course, told Dominika about the lie in case they communicated with her. That way, she can cover for me. She is in Greece, so I didn’t lie about that part. She even said she’d send me some photos of the beach and whatnot so I could text them to them. If I do that, they might not reach out so much.

“How was your flight?” Rolando asks me in dead silence.

“It wasn’t bad, like at all. No turbulence. It was odd to be on a private plane, though. When I travel, I’m used to the commercial planes. You know, the ones filled with hundreds of other people. It was quite an experience.” I laugh lightly at the end because I know I’m rambling.

“Yes, I know about the planes you speak of.” Rolando chuckles.

“Obviously. I apologize. Sometimes, I ramble and don’t make much sense when I’m nervous.”

Rolando approaches an intersection and stops at the light while we wait for it to change. “Are you nervous about meeting the Umarovas?”

I swallow hard as I try to gather my thoughts. “Yeah, this whole thing is a bit intense for me. I don’t know if you knowwhoI am in relation to them, but as far as I know, they’re my only blood relations besides my parents. I grew up in the Czech Republic, so being here, in the place where I should have grown up in… it’s a lot.”

“It sounds like a good opportunity for you to learn about your roots while you’re here then,” Rolando suggests, and for the first time, I hear a light accent coming through his words. I’m not sure where he’s from, but there’s a distinct way he says certain words. I’m not going to pry, but maybe I’ll find out soon enough.

“Yes, exactly. It’s crazy because I’m nervous to be here, but I’m excited too. There are so many possibilities.” I might sound a little bit crazy, but I am excited to learn more about my birth family. “Do you know anything about them?”

Rolando looks in the rear-view mirror and raises a brow. “I know a lot about them. What is it you’d like to know?” Rolando begins moving in the line of traffic and proceeds down another road.

There are plenty of questions that run through my mind. “Are they good people? Are they family-oriented? How many of them are there?” Every time a decent question comes to my mind, I ask it. I don’t want to pry too much, but I want to know more about them, too. I don’t even know how I should be acting right now.

“There are a few of them. Ruslan is the oldest, and then there’s Lom, Nazyr, and Eset. All in that order. I’m taking you to Ruslan’s house now to meet him, where you’ll likely meet his wife, Amelia, and their little boy, Karim.”

“I can’t wait. This has been such a long time coming.”

“I’m sure it has. We’re going to be there very shortly,” Rolando tells me as he shifts lanes.

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