Chapter 38

Yaroslav

The next day

D espite Artem being on the case, I’m still anxious to get out of the hospital so I can look for Kim myself. It’s clear to me that everything isn’t stable with my Bratva either, I need to weed out the traitors and dispose of them once and for all. David still hasn’t been to see me either, which tells me he either blames me for Marta’s death and Kim’s absence, or he’s spiraled so badly he’s catatonic, or both.

I’m sitting up in bed, ignoring yet another old sitcom that’s playing on the TV to try to pass the time. Just when I think I might go mad with boredom, the door of my hospital room opens, and the last person I expect to see walks in. Jackson, my sister’s husband, a widower now I suppose.

He seems wary of me, which is understandable, since it’s my fault his wife died. If only she’d stayed away from me, if I’d refused her attempts to reconcile, she’d still be alive and living happily in England with Jackson.

“Jackson, I wasn’t expecting you,” I reply truthfully.

“I wasn’t sure I was going to come,” he replies, equally as candid, which I appreciate. “But Marta would have wanted me to,” he finishes, his voice breaking slightly as he says her name, his eyes filled with pain.

“I assume you came here looking for answers?” I guess.

He shakes his head, moving closer to my bedside. He seems to contemplate sitting in the chair but then decides better of it.

“No, actually. From what Marta shared with me about her life in Russia and your family, I’m aware that the less I know, the better,” he says.

Wise man.

“You’ll forgive me for wishing she’d left her past in the past, for thinking that she would still be alive if we never came here looking for you,” he continues, seeming not to look for an answer but I give him one anyway.

“I know it is because of me Marta is dead, I shall forever regret that and wish I had done things differently. I should have forced her to stay away.”

He shakes his head with a small smile, “She wouldn’t have listened. Marta was a stubborn woman and determined to be a part of your lives, no matter the risk. I can count on one hand the number of times I managed to change her mind once it was set.”

I allow him to reminisce and think of fonder times with his wife for a moment, not wanting to interrupt him by asking why he’s here.

“I’m afraid you were still in a coma when we held the funeral. She wanted to be cremated, and her ashes were scattered in a beautiful forest near our home in England where we often went for long walks,” he says sadly, closing his eyes as though the memory is too painful to recall.

“I had assumed I missed it, I am sorry to have,” I say softly, though in all fairness it wouldn’t have surprised me if I wasn’t welcome, even if I had been awake.

“But that’s not what I came to tell you. I have recently acquired Marta’s will, and you’re a beneficiary. David too, that’s why I came back to the US,” he explains.

I nod, thinking what it could be. Marta took some of our mother’s jewelry and other mementos following our parents’ deaths, I assume it must be something like that. “Family heirlooms?”

“Yes. But not just those. Marta became a wealthy woman in her own right, investing in properties. She has… had… several in the United States. She left one to you and one to your brother. Yours is in Miami, a beautiful beachfront property. She said when you were young, you always dreamed of going to America and living on a beach,” he says gently, sensing that this memory might be painful for me.

I’d almost forgotten the long, cold nights in Russia, snowed in and shivering, dreaming of warmer climates and the American dream.

“Thank you, that was… unexpected,” I reply, trying to control my emotions.

“For David, she’s left a property in Maine. It’s beautiful too, secluded and in the woods, peaceful. She thought David would like it, a retreat, away from the noise and stresses of this life that he has struggled so much with.”

Marta’s kindness and sensitivity have amazed me. Without seeing us for decades she somehow still managed to choose the perfect homes for us, to know us, perhaps better than we know ourselves. I’m shocked to find tears prickling in my eyes. I haven’t cried since I was a child. I compose myself. “He’ll love that,” I say truthfully. “Marta was an incredible woman, the world will be less bright without her.”

“On that, we can agree,” Jackson replies sagely. “I’m going back to England tonight, I only returned to settle the matter regarding the properties. I doubt our paths will cross again. In another life I’m sure we could all have been happy together.”

I nod in understanding, knowing it’s for the best. “I wish things were different too. Farewell.”

Jackson nods but doesn’t say another word, there’s nothing left to say.