“Tea for me, if you don’t mind,” Dania says, sitting down next to her father. “I’m parched.”
Alex takes a seat on the couch and pulls me down with him. To Lena, who stands in the doorframe with her hands folded in front of her, he says, “Tea and vodka, please.” Looking at me, he asks, “What would you like, Katyusha?”
“Tea is fine, thank you,” I say.
“You know which tea I like, Lena,” Dania says. “That lovely licorice and verbena homemade brew of yours.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Lena says before leaving the room.
Dania addresses me. “Tell us about your trip to the States.”
Not in the mood to discuss my family or personal life with them, I answer vaguely, “It was great.”
Alex stretches his arm across the backrest and brushes a finger over the naked skin of my exposed shoulder. “Too short, I’m afraid.”
We make small talk for another few minutes, and then the discussion turns to business, which excludes me from the conversation.
Lena arrives with a tray that she puts on the coffee table. She pours herbal tea from a small porcelain teapot for Dania and offers me a cup of Earl Grey. After serving everyone a slice of Tima’s almond cake, she leaves.
Alex pours the vodka and hands Mikhail a glass. It seems early for drinking hard liquor, but I know it’s a Russian custom. Mikhail drones on about the business while we finish our tea. He’s in the middle of a sentence when Dania interrupts him by standing abruptly.
Placing a hand over her stomach, she says, “I don’t feel well. Kate, can you please accompany me to the bathroom?”
“Of course,” I say, already on my feet.
The men stand, their brows pleated.
“Shall I call a doctor?” Mikhail asks.
“It’s just a little nausea, Papa.”
I rush after Dania as she hurries to the door.
“Katerina is a nurse,” Alex says. “She’ll let us know if we need to call.”
Dania knows her way around the house. She runs for the guest bathroom, banging the door against the wall as she opens it.
I follow and close the door for privacy. Her face is pale and sweat beads on her forehead. She looks like she’s on the verge of vomiting. Just in case, I open the toilet lid.
“How do you feel?” I ask. “Only nauseated or do you also have stomach cramps?”
“Listen to me,” she says, startling me by grabbing my shoulders. She continues in an urgent tone. “We don’t have much time. In a moment, I’m going to be sick. Really sick.”
I lean away, taking in her feverish face. “What are you talking about?”
“The tea. Lena slipped something into it.”
“What?” I exclaim.
She gives me a shake. “Listen to me. This is your only chance to escape.” She tips her chin toward the toilet stall. “There’s a bag behind the door. Get changed. Soon, there will be mayhem. It’ll look as if I’m dying. They’ll think it’s poisoning. My father is going to rush me to the hospital. I’ll get into the car with him. While everyone is distracted, get into the second car. My bodyguard is the driver. Lie down in the back. He’ll take you to the airport. Lena packed you a bag. It’s already inside the trunk with money and a false passport.”
Too shocked to find words, I can only stare at her.
“It’s your only chance of getting away,” she says, letting go of my shoulders. “I’m not going to poison myself twice for you.”
“What about you?” I ask, battling to process what’s happening. “What did Lena give you?”
“Don’t worry about me,” she says, wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “It was a small dose. I’ll survive.”
“I can’t believe you did this,” I say, shaking from head to toe. “It’s so dangerous and irresponsible.”
“Don’t let it be for nothing.” She pushes me toward the toilet. “Go. Hurry. We’re running out of time.” When I don’t move, she says, “It’s now or never, Kate. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
My brain goes into shutdown mode, even as my training dictates that I assist her. When her shoulders curl inward and her chest heaves, I take her arm.
“Come,” I say, leading her to the toilet. “I’m calling Alex.”
She shoves me away. “Take the fucking bag, Kate. Don’t be an idiot.”
I look at the bag in the corner behind the door. “How did it get here?”
“My bodyguard smuggled it to Lena,” she says, kneeling in front of the toilet. “Does it fucking matter how it got there?”
Brushing her hair over her shoulder, I say, “I can’t just leave you like this.”
She utters a laugh. “I’ll have enough people worrying about me. All you—” Violent retching cuts the rest of her sentence short.
I hold her hair as she empties her stomach. When the worst of it is over, I run for the door.
A knock falls on it as I’m about to reach for the handle.
“Katerina?” Alex calls. “Is everything all right?”
“No,” I say, opening the door.
Alex and Mikhail stand on the threshold, their faces tense with worry.
“It looks like poison,” I say in a shaky voice. “She needs to get to a hospital.”
“Breakfast, Papa,” Dania says meekly from the toilet. “Blini.”
Mikhail utters a string of expletives.
Alex says tersely, “I’ll call an ambulance.”
“No.” Another heave racks Dania’s body. Sucking in a breath, she says, “I want you to take me, Papa. I don’t trust the ambulance.”
“Tell your driver to start the engine,” Alex says to Mikhail. “I’ll tell my men to make sure the roads are clear. You’d better call home on your way and take samples of the breakfast. Maybe sweep the kitchen.”
Mikhail gives a nod before running down the hallway.
“Can you hold down the fort here while I check on security?” Alex asks me, his words quiet but rushed. “I’ll send Igor to carry Dania to the car.”
My stomach twists as I nod. “Of course.”
Offering me a fleeting smile of gratitude, he follows on Mikhail’s heels.
Another bout of vomiting leaves Dania slumped over the toilet. There’s not much I can do for her other than holding her hair out of her face. If the dose of poison she took isn’t lethal, it’ll work itself out of her system in a few hours. However, they’ll still have to monitor her at the hospital to check for organ or nervous system damage. They’ll probably pump her stomach to be on the safe side and hook her up to a glucose IV while running tests. After overnight observation, they’ll discharge her and send her home. Her life will return to normal, and her suffering will have been wasted.
I look between her and the bag.
“Fuck you, Kate,” she says, her chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. “I’ll kill you if I went through this for nothing.”
Shit. I don’t know what to do. She’s right about one thing. This is my only chance. There won’t be another opportunity. The house is in chaos and I’m caught in the maelstrom, forced to make a rash decision.