Page 127 of Sexting the Pakhan

“You know the building?”

His silence answers.

Of course he does.

I decide not to ask. If I ask why he knows the back exit of my daughters’ kindergarten, I will lose the fragile thread holding me together.

Mila walks ahead of us, tiny and fierce, carrying her bent paper crown in one hand like a battle flag.

The hallway outside is dim, littered with dropped art folders, cupcakes, a little shoe, someone’s handbag spilled open near the wall. I can hear voices from the front classrooms. Teachers. Parents. Someone calling emergency services.

“Stay close,” I whisper.

Mila nods without turning. “I am close.”

Ruslan’s weight shifts, and I nearly stumble. He catches himself against the wall again, breath hissing.

“You’re too heavy,” I mutter.

“You offered.”

“My daughter emotionally blackmailed me.”

Mila says, “I heard that.”

“You were supposed to,” I say.

Ruslan looks at her as she moves ahead, and something passes through his face too quickly for me to name.

We reach the main classroom. Karina is near the reading table with Nadia clutched against her side. Miss Elena stands by thedoor, counting children with a clipboard she’s holding so tightly the paper bends.

Nadia sees me first.

“Mama!” she cries. She tears away from Karina and runs to me, then stops when she sees Ruslan. Her eyes go huge.

Karina looks up. When she sees him, all the color drains from her face.

“Oh my God,” Karina whispers.

Ruslan’s body goes still beside me. I feel it because I’m holding half his weight.

Karina remembers him. She steps closer slowly, Nadia pressed against her leg now, Mila at mine. “You,” she says.

Ruslan looks at her. “Karina.”

The fact that he remembers her name makes something twist in my stomach.

Karina’s mouth parts. “You remember me?”

“We were supposed to find you, I guess?” he says.

Karina nods, still giving him a suspicious look. She knows who he is—not the man I had a huge crush on. No, she knows he’s Ruslan Karelin, mafia boss, and one of the worst men to be around in New York. She’s a smart girl, and there was an article in the newspaper after the attack that named him and his men directly for the attack. She did some digging and found his picture, and when she showed it to me, I pretended to be surprised.

But it quietly disappeared after that, which doesn’t surprise me in the least. He’s rich and powerful. What she doesn’t know is what happened between us afterward.

“Fantastic,” Karina says, voice shaking. “That makes this even worse.”

Miss Elena looks between us. “Do you know him?”