Page 133 of Sexting the Pakhan

I keep pressure on the wound and choose my words carefully. “I knew him before you were born.”

Mila looks interested. “When you were young?”

Karina mutters, “You’re still young.”

I ignore her. “Yes,” I tell Mila. “When I was younger.”

Nadia studies Ruslan. “Were you Mama’s friend?”

Ruslan’s gaze moves to me.

I don’t look away.

“No,” I say. “Not exactly.”

Mila frowns. “Then what was he?”

“A complicated person,” I say.

Karina snorts. “That’s one way to phrase it.”

“Karina,” I warn.

“What?” she says. “I am being heroic with my restraint.”

Nadia looks at Ruslan again. “Are you still complicated?”

Ruslan’s mouth moves slightly. “Yes.”

Mila nods as if this makes sense to her. “I’m complicated sometimes too.”

“You are five,” Nadia says.

Mila says, “That doesn’t mean simple.”

Despite everything, Ruslan almost smiles.

I look back at his leg and press harder than necessary. He hisses.

“Sorry,” I say again. This time, I mean it less.

Karina moves to the sink and washes her hands. “What do we do now?”

“We stop the bleeding,” I say. “Then we figure out how to get him medical help without turning my apartment into a crime scene.”

Ruslan says, “I can call someone.”

I look up immediately. “No.”

His eyes narrow. “No?”

“No mafia doctor. No armed men. No one coming to my building.”

“Zoya—”

“My children live here,” I say.

That shuts him up.