Nikolai Vetrov
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Vetrov family dinners were exhausting enough. It was suffocating and I hated dining with my family. None of them treated me like family. My grandfather saw me as a tool. My uncle saw me as a threat.
It was even worse when the Solokovs joined us.
Thanksgiving wasn’t even a Russian holiday. I didn’t know why my grandfather invited them to spend the holiday with us. That meant I had to stay at home, see them at home, and be in the same space with Elena. The same woman I threatened over the phone just the past week.
Our table was filled with twelve people. My grandfather sat at the head of the table. Elena’s father and his wife sat adjacent to my grandfather, followed by their children, two boys and one girl. On the other side was my uncle Viktor, his wife, his kids, th
