At every station, my stomach grows tighter. At every stop, I expect Yan to hop onto the train and drag me away, even if it’s unlikely unless he charters a helicopter. But just over seven hours later, the train pulls into Budapest without any incidents.
With no money left, I go to the nearest boutique bank office and tell the private banker my handbag was stolen on the train, all my cards and passport gone, and that I’m on my way to make a declaration at the police station. After verifying my identity with a fingerprint scanner, I make a small withdrawal. At the pharmacy next door, I buy foundation and lipstick, and apply a thick coat of each to conceal the faint bruises and almost-healed cut on my lip.
A taxi drops me off at the private clinic in District 11.
The receptionist knows me well. She smiles when I enter. “Miss Belan. It’s been a while.”
“I’ve been traveling. How is she?”
Her look is sympathetic. “She has her days.” Her face brightens. “Seeing you will definitely cheer her up.”
“Can I go through?”
“Of course.” She picks up the phone. “I’ll let the nurse know you’re on your way.”
I make my way through the long hallway, my sneakers squeaking on the shiny floor. Natural light filters through the skylights and contemporary art brightens the clean white of the walls, while floor-to-ceiling windows encase the spacious lounge, giving a magnificent view of the city. A staircase takes me to the first floor. At the end of the hall, I pause to gather myself. Carefully schooling my features, I knock and enter.
Right away, overwhelming emotions clog up my throat, and it takes all I have to suppress the tears stinging my eyes. My grandmother is the only person who can make me feel like this, who can get through the icy walls that have encased my heart after my parents’ deaths. With her, I’m again that little girl running through the woods, and as much as I hate the feeling, I could never give it up.
I could never give her up.
She—Hanna—is sitting in her wheelchair on the balcony, her soft, white hair forming a halo around her weathered face in the late afternoon light. A nurse is feeding her tea.
Making my way over, I take the cup from the nurse. “I’ll take over.”
The woman nods and takes her leave.
A smile splits Hanna’s face. “Mina, darling. It’s been so long.”
I take a seat and bring the cup to her lips. It breaks my heart to see how hard the simple task of closing her lips around the rim is. “I’ve been busy at work. It was hard to get away.”
Hanna gives me a chiding look. “You shouldn’t waste your free time on an old woman. You should take a holiday, go away.” Her eyes sharpen. “Meet people.”
Meet a man, she means. If only she knew. I push away the thought. My time with her is short, and I’m not going to spoil it by dragging the reality of my twisted relationship with Yan into the moment.
“There’s no one I’d rather spend time with than you,” I tell her, bringing the cup to her lips again.
Through sips of tea, she watches me with observant eyes. “You’re pale.”
I use the napkin to wipe away a dribble of tea that has spilled down her chin. “I haven’t gotten out much.”
“I hate how your job makes you a vampire.”
That makes me laugh. “I’m hardly a vampire.”
“You sleep in the day and work all night. Look how white you are. If you carry on like this, you’ll develop an intolerance to the sun.”
“I’m sitting in the sun now, and I’m not turning into ashes,” I tease.
Frowning, she peers at me. “Is that a bruise under your eye?”
“Just dark rings from a lack of sleep.”
She sighs and shakes her head. “From how thin you are, you’re not eating either.”
“Don’t worry, Grandma. I’m not drinking blood.”
“Hmpf. Are you cooking?”
“Yes.”
“What?” A challenge.
“Goulash.”
She relaxes somewhat. “Good. The greasy food they serve in that bar where you work will give you heart disease, not to mention pimples.”
If only. I’d kill for some acne and high cholesterol right now. Taking a cookie from the plate, I hold it for her to take a bite. I don’t miss how much her hands are shaking in her lap, and my heart cracks all over again. “Are they taking good care of you?”
It takes her a while to chew. “Oh, yes. The nurses are very kind.” She tilts her head toward the plate. “Have one. They’re healthy. Oats and honey.”
To appease her, I take a cookie. “How’s the food? Still good?”
“Everything is great. As always. Why are you so concerned about all of this today?”
“Just making sure you’re happy.”
“How about you? Are you happy, Mina?”
It’s hard to look her in the eyes. “Very. Are you tired? Would you like to have a nap before dinner?”
“Are you staying?”
“Yes.”
She smiles. “Then I’d like a little nap.”
I push her back into the room and take her arm to help her stand. Her frail form shakes so badly it takes a full minute to cross the short distance to the bed.
When she’s comfortable, I kiss her cheek. “I’m going to see Lena. I’ll be back after your nap.”
She reaches for my hand and gives it a tremulous squeeze. “I’m happy you’re here.”
“Me too.” Emotions tighten my chest. “I’m sorry it’s been so long.”
“Don’t be silly. You’re young. You have a life to live.” She squeezes once more and lets go. “Go see Lena. She’ll be happy to see you, too.”
* * *
I find the doctor and clinic director in her office. She’s soft and curvy, her gray-streaked dark hair twisted into a French roll. She was my mother’s best friend, and she’s fiercely loyal to Hanna. It was because of her that Hanna could get into this clinic despite a five-year waiting list. We’re not close—I keep too many secrets to get close to anyone—but with this, I
