Sixty-Two

Maria

I don't know how long I stayed there. When I wake up, Dominika sits in a chair, doing her needlework and humming softly. I don't want to talk to her. I want to be alone. But Dominika notices I'm awake and puts her needlepoint on her chair. She sits on the floor with me. She reaches over and brushes her fingers through my hair.

"It hurts now, koshka," she whispers. "But in time, the pain will fade."

She pulls me against her, cradling my head, and lets me cry. The warmth of her body comforts me. Her familiar perfume fills my nostrils. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. It does hurt. The tears fall harder and faster until I'm sobbing uncontrollably. Dominika holds me tighter and whispers soothing words. She rocks me gently, and I sob in her lap until the tears finally stop.

My voice is hoarse, but my words are clear. "Did he send you?"

She frowns a little. "No. Mikhail Ivanov said you needed time alone."

"He can go to hell." My voice hardens. "I hate him."

Dominika shakes her