Chapter twenty: Kolia

Elena’s pov

Kolia shoved her behind him even though he was only a boy himself. His free arm stretched out as if he could somehow hold the animal back with will alone.

A woman’s voice cut through the chaos.

“Elena!”

My mother.

She appeared at the edge of the garden, running hard, her dress catching the light. She had heard the screams. She saw the tiger and the children and did not stop to think. She threw herself between them without hesitation, arms open, body a shield.

The tiger leapt.

The impact knocked her to the ground. The sound of it,of weight and claws and her sharp cry of pain,filled the entire garden. Young Elena screamed her mother’s name and tried to crawl forward. Kolia wrapped both arms around her and covered her eyes with one small hand, but she still heard everything. The growls. The tearing. The wet, terrible sounds that did not belong in a place of flowers and sunlight.

My mother’s voice, strained and breaking, reached her.

“Run. Elena…run…”

She refused. She struggled against Kolia’s hold, fingers digging into the grass, trying to reach the place where her mother lay. Flowers were crushed under the struggle. Petals stuck to young Elena’s knees and arms. Damien was somewhere behind them, crying out for adults. Footsteps finally thundered into the garden.

Shouts.

Orders.

Someone called for help in a voice that cracked with panic.

The memory fractured into pieces.

White and blue petals ground into the dirt.

The smell of blood under the sweetness of the flowers.

Kolia’s arms locked around me, refusing to let go even when I fought him.

My mother’s last visible movement,her hand reaching toward me, then falling still.

Everything went dark again, but this time the darkness was full of sound and the frantic beat of a child’s heart that did not yet understand what it had lost.

—

I woke with a violent gasp.

Air rushed into my lungs as if I had been underwater for too long. My body jerked upright against the restraints of a hospital bed. Monitors beeped steadily somewhere near my head. The light was too bright, fluorescent and cold. My arm ached inside a fresh sling. My heart hammered so hard I could feel it in my throat.

Samantha sat in the chair beside the bed. Her eyes were red and swollen. The moment she saw me conscious she made a broken sound and reached for my free hand.

“Elena…oh god, Elena…”

My father stood near the window. He looked older than I had ever seen him. The color had drained from his face. His shoulders were rigid, and when he turned toward me his eyes held something that looked almost like fear.

A doctor in a white coat was checking the IV line in my arm. She spoke calmly, professionally, telling me I had collapsed at the Fairmont, that my vitals were stabilizing, that they needed to run more tests. I barely heard her.

I looked around the room, trying to anchor myself.

“What happened?” My voice came out rough.

Samantha squeezed my hand. “You just… went down. One second you were standing there, the next you were on the floor. I called an ambulance. Your dad got here as soon as he could.”

I turned my head toward my dad.

He did not speak at once. The expression on his face made the air in the room feel thinner. He looked like a man who had just watched a ghost walk out of the past and sit down in front of him.

I became aware of something cool against my wrist under the edge of the hospital gown. I lifted my free hand and found the silver bracelet there, the tiny blue stone resting against my pulse. I did not remember putting it back on. My fingers closed around it.

The garden.

The boy.

The tiger.

And my mother’s voice telling me to run.

Kolia.

The name rose in my throat like something that had been waiting years to be spoken.

I looked at my father.

“Dad…”

My voice trembled. I could not stop it.

“Who is Kolia?”

Dad's face lost what little color remained. Samantha’s gaze moved between us, confusion and worry sharpening her features. For a long moment the only sound in the room was the steady beep of the heart monitor.

Then my father whispered, so quietly I almost missed it,

“Where did you hear that name?”