Right. His foot. It’s not as urgent as Zhenya, but that needs care, too. “Kallie, go to him. I’ve got this. Has anyone called 911yet?”
“I did,” Maksim says. He looks ruffled by the gunfight, but no worse for the wear than usual. “They’re on their way.”
“Sestra!” Anton wails at Zhenya’s side. “Hang on. I’m here.”
“Sir, I need you to step back.”
He ignores me and grabs her hands. “I’ll make that mudak pay! I’ll—”
Finally, his head snaps to me.
“I need to help your sister now.” My tone is firm, unflinching. “Either step back, or I’ll have you removed.”
“Who the hell do you think you are?!” he snaps at me. “She’s my sister! She’s—”
It comes out like an order. Like Yulian would say it. I barely even notice that, barely realize how rude I’m being.
But Maksim doesn’t seem to mind. Inst
