“I like her, too. She reminds me of the mother I don’t have anymore.” Natalia’s smile freezes on her face. I press a finger to the corner of her mouth, trying to tip it back into a smile. “Sorry. Bad joke.”
“I want to meet her,” she whispers.
Why did I have to go there?
“She’s in a facility, Natalia. She doesn’t even know who I am most days. And her memory is so full of holes. It’s impossible to have a conversation with her.”
“She’s still your mother. And the twins’ grandmother.” Natalia presses a hand to her stomach. “It matters.”
“If you expect her to be happy about that—”
“I don’t expect anything, Andrey,” Natalia interrupts. “I just want to know where you came from.”
“From crime lords and cold bastards, mostly.”
Her eyebrows knit together. “Does it help you to be self-disparag
