There are only two things giving me some small measure of comfort at this moment. One is the fresh scent of vanilla in the air. The second is the piano in the corner.
“Who are you?” I ask.
Ravil glances at Kolya with a smile that threatens to make my first trimester nausea resurface. “Tut-tut, Kolya. You should really show her our family tree.” He turns his gaze back on me. “I’m Kolya’s cousin. Which makes us family.”
There it is again—my skin crawling like it’s begging me to leave this godforsaken room. Even the air tastes sour and filthy.
“Please sit, June,” Ravil encourages, his voice twisting with an oozing charm that I don’t trust for a second. “Would you like something to drink?”
It’s strange how comfortable he is playing host in Kolya’s house. It’s almost as if Kolya isn’t sitt
