Fallen Stars and Broken Dreams
Rising from Ruin
Book 1
By C.C. Masters
Copyright 2018 by Dark Sea Publishing.
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Fallen Stars and Broken Dreams
Dedication
Prologue
Katya
Chapter 1
Katya
Chapter 2
Katya
Chapter 3
Two Months Later…
Katya
Chapter 4
Maverik
Chapter 5
Katya
Chapter 6
Katya
Chapter 7
Katya
Chapter 8
Katya
Chapter 9
Katya
Chapter 10
Katya
Chapter 11
Katya
Chapter 12
Katya
Chapter 13
Maverik
Chapter 14
Katya
Chapter 15
Katya
Chapter 16
Katya
Chapter 17
Katya
Chapter 18
Maverik
Chapter 19
Katya
Chapter 20
Katya
Chapter 21
Katya
Chapter 22
Katya
Chapter 23
Katya
Chapter 24
Katya
Chapter 25
Katya
Chapter 26
Maverik
Chapter 27
Katya
Chapter 28
Katya
Chapter 29
Katya
Chapter 30
Katya
Chapter 31
Katya
Chapter 32
Katya
Chapter 33
Katya
Chapter 34
Katya
Chapter 35
Katya
Chapter 36
Katya
Chapter 37
Katya
Chapter 38
Katya
Chapter 39
Katya
Chapter 40
Katya
Chapter 41
Maverik
Chapter 42
Katya
Dedication:
To those who never stop dreaming.
Thank you to my awesome beta readers!
Note: This book assumes Jeff Bezos never quit his job on Wall Street to start Amazon. This world is a slightly different place, so there’s room for a different (completely fictional) cast of characters
Prologue
Katya
“I’m home!” I called out to my babushka.
Usually, this greeting would cause her to storm out of the kitchen and swat at me with her wooden spoon, but our apartment was quiet. She preferred that I speak only Russian to her while we were home.
“Babulya?” I called again.
Only silence greeted me.
I frowned as I walked through the empty kitchen where my babushka would typically be cooking dinner by now. It was odd that her tea kettle was still resting on the stove instead of pushed to the side to make room for her pots and pans.
My heart dropped when I saw her morning cup of tea still sitting on the counter. Babulya took her first cup strong and plain, but then had a second cup with lunch that she sweetened with sugar and milk. She always said she needed that first cup to wake from the dead, but the second she could savor and enjoy.
“Babulya?” I said a bit louder.
Maybe she had gone to the store?
My eyes flicked back to that cup of tea, and my worry only grew. She would have never left the apartment without drinking that tea.
Something was wrong.
I moved forward, breaking into a run as I slammed her bedroom door open. The apartment was small enough that this was the only other place she could be. I looked around slowly, and my brain failed to comprehend what I saw at first.
My eyes focused, and I shook myself out of my frozen state of shock. I ran to my babushka’s side and knelt beside her. Her body was crumpled on the ground as though she’d lost her balance and slid down the wall.
The second I touched my babushka’s hand, I knew the truth, but I couldn’t accept it. Her skin was cold and waxy, but I squeezed her hand and whispered her name again, praying she would open her eyes.
She stared blankly into the distance, and my hands trembled as I gently touched her face. I sucked in air as I tried to hold in a scream, but a pitiful cry still escaped my lips. I brushed the wayward strands of hair out of her eyes as they stared at nothing. My vision blurred as I sat back on my heels and rocked back and forth.
This couldn’t be happening. My babushka was still vibrant and full of life - she was far from frail or elderly. There had been no signs of failing health that had warned me this was a possibility.
My chest contracted in pain, and my entire body shook. I knew by looking at her that she was past help, so I didn’t run to call for emergency assistance. I just stared at the face that I loved as tears slowly slid down my cheeks.
Ice gripped my heart, and pain paralyzed me. Babulya was my only family - the only person I could always rely on to be there for me. Now she was gone, and guilt was eating me up inside. She died completely alone while I was at school, having fun with my best friend. She laid here, desperately struggling for life while I danced. I should have been here when she needed me most.
The next hour was blurry, and my memories of what happened next were disjointed. I must have called for help at some point, because police and EMTs were pounding at my door. I didn’t remember letting them in, but the image of the EMT shaking her head at the police officer was seared into my brain. That was confirmation that my babushka was really gone.
On the inside, I was screaming and sobbing. But on the outside, I just sat frozen in place. The next thing I knew, Ryan held me while Mrs. Logan spoke softly with the police officer. I closed my eyes, hoping that this was just a bad dream. A nightmare that could be washed away with the light of day.
When I opened my eyes again, nothing had changed. The only person who ever loved me was gone, and I was alone. Grief washed through me, and
