Chapter Eighteen:

Just as Evgeniya was carefully setting a plain white tea pot in the middle of her large table, a young blonde boy walked into the dinning room. His eyes almost matched Sasha’s, but were a slightly darker shade of blue. He shared the same ears as Evgeniya and I, and they became bright red once he saw me sitting among his family.

“Who’s that?” He asked his parents warily, slowly making his way to the table.

“Dima, this is your older sister Vasilisa. She’s come all the way from America to meet you. Have manners.” Evgeniya scolded gently as she began serving my siblings child-sized portions. Kirill grinned at me, gesturing toward the feast in front of us.

“You’re so small. You don’t eat in America, yes? Help yourself dear.”

I actually put on ten pounds since moving to Arizona, but the backwards compliment made me smile a little as I served myself a few potato pancakes with a hearty dollop of so