I nod. “Sometimes I think it might have been kinder if he’d just killed her,” I admit—something I’ve never spoken aloud before. “Instead, he wore her down. He twisted and deformed everything good about her until it was unrecognizable. Until she didn’t even know herself. She’s buried so deep in her own mind now that no one can pull her out.”
“Why? Why would he do it?”
“Because we loved her,” I explain. “Because Viktor and I loved her more than we would ever respect him.”
Every smile that we aimed at her, every bubble of laughter that she pulled from us—Slavik took as a personal affront. The very sound seemed to offend him.
Natalia’s eyes are fixed on me. Her knuckles are white as she squeezes my hand. “He probably knew that, one day, you and Viktor would stand between him and Arina. Tha
