Katerina"I'll try harder," I swear. Ulyana responds with a pleased smile. Clearing my throat, I stand a bit taller. "Girls!" I yell, working to keep my voice clear and even. I'm not sure what to expect, but I'm surprised when two different women rush into the kitchen. I recognize Olesya, who beams at me. The other one has light brown hair that drifts in long waves around her round face.Olesya's arms are folded securely behind her back, and her elbows stick out from her side. "How can we help you, miss?"Not used to giving commands, I fumble a bit. The words come out in a jumble. "I'd like—if it's okay—some French toast."Olesya lights up like I gave her amazing news. "Of course!" She scurries to the fridge, gathering ingredients with the speed of an expert. Ulyana catches my eye—she motions at the table. Catching the hint, I sit down, still watching Olesya with interest.She zips around the kitchen with familiarity, grabbing bowls, a whisk, a container of flour. Setting down a thick
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