Page 116 of The Darkness is Calling

Everything is beginning to take shape, revealing a senseless scenario formed by all the clues gathered from the two of them. From their mission to the period for which they were hired.

The wedding is in ten days.

I wonder what I’ll do to the one who orchestrated all this chaos. Chaos designed for one purpose alone.

“Someone is trying to keep me away from Ekaterina.”

Chapter 20

Ekaterina

Long minutes are passing by, painfully slow. They are filled with pain, but also with a silence that makes my heart bleed as I stare into an empty spot most of the time.

On the first day, I didn’t leave the house, choosing to lick my wounds in the presence of my best friend, who tried to pull me out of my state with pizza, chocolate, and comedy shows.

Her plan didn’t really work, no matter how good her intentions were.

All this time, I have done nothing but think about the blood on my hand, constantly wondering whether Artem had been wounded and that was why he never made it to my recital.

But if that was the reason, why didn’t he say anything? Why did they lie to me, Dima included, saying he had been at the club?

And who the hell had sent me that picture?

All those questions kept colliding with the fact that I had left that house and still felt betrayed.

My phone was in silent mode, and I avoided speaking to anyone, but part of me still hoped for at least one message from Artem. Something to confirm that everything between us had meant something to him too. That I was not just a game to a man I don’t think he feels anything in general.

But I received no sign from him. And that makes me feel, even now, like a toy he is probably glad to be rid of.

Instead of being happy about the spectacular reviews my recital received, instead of being proud of myself and of the fact that every critic is calling me a phenomenon, I remained downcast and drained of energy.

A slap on my shoulder jolts me out of my miserable state. I nearly drop the coffee in my hand, but I am saved by the lid fitted tightly over the cardboard cup, after Oksana and I picked them up earlier from a Starbucks near the office.

“Are you even paying attention to what I’m reading to you?” she scolds me with a frown.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly, replacing the coffee with the phone on the table. “What is it?”

“It’s the latest article published. It says that, although the program listed different pieces, your last-minute improvisation delivered an impeccable performance, hauntingly profound and sorrowful, bringing tears to the audience’s eyes and leaving them with feelings they will not soon forget through the music you gave them. And at the end, they say your performance was flawless and will certainly become a future benchmark for emerging talents.”

I frown. “They’re exaggerating.”

“They have no reason to. They’re critics.”

“Critics who exaggerate.”

The brightness on her face turns into a crease between her brows.

“I was there, Katya. You laid your beautiful soul bare, and when you weren’t making me cry, you were giving me goose bumps. I don’t understand why you underestimate yourself so much.”

My shoulders drop, and I glance for a moment toward Dima, who has resumed his position as my babysitter for today. He hasn’t said a word since I saw him this morning, except for a polite greeting. But I didn’t open any delicate subject with him either, even though part of me has been aching for answers.

“I’m just tired,” I give my visibly worried friend as an explanation. “Apparently, those aren’t exactly my finest days.”

“I know. But all you’re doing is sinking deeper into a numb state, as if you’ve made peace with what’s coming.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve done,” I tell her while absently fiddling with the phone between my fingers. “Until a few weeks ago, I was perfectly satisfied with my life and at peace with this wedding. Why wouldn’t I be now, especially since everything has gone back to how it was before?”

“Because you met...”