"Anastasiya." My grandfather says, drawing my attention from Aleksander, who keeps a hand on my shoulder, to him. I look up at him and with a gentle tone he adds, "you are on bed rest, remember?"
"Oh." I whisper. "Sorry."
"It's okay. It's just important that you don't strain your back." He tells me. "Your brother can take you back to your room, and I'll go get you some breakfast."
"Come on, sweetheart." Aleksander urges, beginning to move me in the direction of my bedroom. His hand is heavy on my shoulder as he directs me to the sanctity of the small space. He guides me to sit on the bed and I do, pulling my knees to my chest.
"I thought you weren't coming back until next week." I say, leaning my chin on my knees.
"I ended it early so that I could come see you." He tells me.
I pause for a moment. Then I say, "really?"
He ended a whole business trip to come see me? He doesn't even know me that well. Did he feel obligated to because my grandfather told him what happened with my back? He shouldn't. It isn't his fault. I don't want to become some pitiful little kid that he feels like he has to check on. I've made it through thirteen years of life taking care of myself, I can stretch that skill out for another five.
I can't wait until I'm eighteen. I can do whatever I want and nobody can stop me. I'll be able to live out my dreams and remain completely alone, which is just the way I like it. Maybe if things continue to go well with my grandfather and Aleksander and maybe even Maxim then I'll come back and visit, but I think they're only being so nice to me right now because it's the beginning. I haven't been here that long, and since Aleksander has been on trips and I only met my grandfather a few days ago, they don't know me that well. They could begin to hate me soon, just like everyone else.
"Of course." He responds easily. "I had to make sure you were okay."
"I am." I whisper.
"Are you sure?" He asks.
I nod. "It's not that bad, really."
He tilts his head. "It's bad enough for grandad to put you on bed rest. One time when I was younger I broke my ankle and he still had me up."
"Really?" I ask.
"Yeah." He says with a small laugh. "He'd never do that to you, though. You're his внучка."
(Translation: Granddaughter.)
"What does that mean?" I inquire.
"Granddaughter." He explains.
"Oh." I say. "Is that Ukrainian?"
He nods. "Why don't you try lying down for a little bit until your breakfast is done?"
I sit up a little at the change in subject. Nevertheless I nod. "Okay." I say quietly as I turn to lay down on my stomach.
"I need to go home, and since you're gonna be staying here for a bit is there anything you want me to bring back with me?"
Since you're staying here for a bit.
Relief fills me to the brim and I find myself smiling, holding back a grin. A few moments pass before I realise he asked me a question. "Oh, uh.. I don't know."
"I'll grab some clothes for you." He tells me.
"Thank you." I whisper.
He smiles and pats my shoulder. He leaves the room, closing the door gently behind him, and I turn to stare at the wall. In the far distance I can hear the front door opening and closing. I'm unsure of how much time passes before my grandfather is walking in again. He smiles at me, holding a tray topped with a plate of food and a cup of tea.
"Here." He says, setting the tray onto the bed beside me.
"Thanks." I say quietly as I sit up, looking down at the food.
"How's your back feeling?" He asks me as I pick the fork up and take a bite of some scrambled eggs.
"Fine." I whisper.
"Would you like me to get you some painkillers?" He asks.
"No, it's okay." I assure him.
"Are you sure? Jessalyn said it will hurt for a few days."
"It's okay." I repeat.
He looks at me for a moment before nodding. "Alright." He concedes. "Eat as much as you can. And don't worry, I haven't forgotten. I'll get you your ice cream later."
I smile. "You don't have to."
"I already told you I would." He tells me. "And it's a treat for being so brave yesterday." His voice turns softer, gentler as his eyes fill with warmth and something like pride.
I feel my cheeks heat with a blush, causing his lips to tilt upwards.
"You finish eating." He says. "And then.. I'll have to get you a television for in here." He trails off.
"It's okay." I say. "I don't need one."
"I'll get you my laptop for now." He responds, ignoring my statement. He leaves the room and returns a minute or so later with an expensive looking, large laptop. He sets it beside me on the bed. It's already opened to a new account on Disney Plus.
"I'll be in my office, it's downstairs." He tells me. "Your brother will be back soon. When you're finished just leave your plate on the nightstand and one of us will take it back down, okay?"
I nod. "Thank you."
He sends me another smile before leaving the room. I look at the large laptop in front of me and begin to type in the search bar of the app gently, afraid to break it if I press too hard on the keys.
I search the movie Anastasia up, since on the first day of school the girls in my form said I should watch it. Maybe they'll ask me if I have yet, and we'll be able to talk about the movie.
Excitement fills me at the prospect. I click on the movie and lean back, continuing to eat bits of my breakfast until it's gone. I put the plate on the nightstand, but then feel guilty for not taking it down. I pause the movie and grab it, beginning to make my way downstairs.
I wash the plate in the sink, along with the other couple of dishes in there, then put them on the side where all the other drying plates and cups and cutlery are. I wipe my hands on one of the towels, then turn around and leave the kitchen.
I go to my bedroom again, relaxing back into the sheets, and unpause the movie.
Aleksander comes back when the film is almost over. I pause it again when he enters, a bag slung over his shoulder.
"Do you remember where you put the makeup I got you?" He asks, setting the bag down on the floor. "I couldn't find it."
"Uh.." I whisper, "Petro took it."
He snaps his head down to me. "Where did he put it?"
"He gave it to Angelina." I say softly.
He narrows his eyes and I wonder if I'm in trouble. "He what?"
"Nothing." I respond, my voice small.
He frowns. "He gave your makeup to Angelina?"
I nod nervously.
"He told you that?" He asks, and I realise he doesn't believe me. I guess it is kind of stupid; why would Petro (the assumed millionaire with the gigantic house) steal all the makeup someone else bought for me to give to his little cousin? But he did. Angelina showed me. Or rather bragged about it to me.
"Angelina showed me in school." I whisper.
"She knew that it had been yours?" He asks.
I hesitate before shrugging. He tilts his head, clearly not believing me. I don't want to tell him, afraid that he might ask Angelina about it and she'll increase the cruelness of her antics in school because she'll know I told on her.
He sighs softly. "Okay." He relents. "I'll put your stuff away for you."
"It's okay, I can do it." I whisper. He looks like he's about to tell me to stay in bed so I add, "I need something to do anyway."
"Alright." He responds. He opens the bag for me. "Be careful."
"I will be." I say. He leaves the room, leaving the door open a few inches, and I scoot down onto the floor, dragging the bag over in front of the chest of drawers. I sit down and begin organising it, putting nearly all the things Aleksander bought me into them. I put pants in one drawer, shirts in another and pyjamas in its own one too in order to keep everything separate.
I still have more than half the space in the majority of the drawers (as well as one that's completely empty) but putting my stuff away makes me feel a sort of contentedness I've never experienced before. I hope I never have to leave this house and venture out into the scary, horrifying world beyond it. Now I sort of understand why my grandfather has such high fences surrounding his property. Does he want to keep all the evil away from him too?
I stand back up and walk over to the small desk, looking at myself in the mirror. My hair is frizzy and puffy around my face, a detail that makes me frown. I wish I had a straightener and I wish that my hair didn't dry so unevenly. Would having pin straight her, or at least hair that is styled, make me look prettier to other people? Would it make them want to talk to me or be friends with me?
My head snaps over to the money I won from my grandfather in our chess match. A straightener can't be more than one hundred pounds, can it? Surely not.
I grab my brush and begin to rake it through my chestnut brown hair. I brush my whole head, then set the brush carefully back down onto the desk.
I return to the bed, lying down to watch the rest of the movie.
"Anastasiya." My grandfather says, stepping into my bedroom. "Your brother is here to see you."
I furrow my eyebrows. Aleksander came in before to check on me. Who is he talking about?
My confusion festers when Demian steps in behind him. Out of all my brothers (even Petro and Ivan) he was definitely the last person I ever imagined coming here. I've had up to two interactions with him-once in the kitchen and the other time in the car, although that was brief-and neither were specifically pleasant.
Demian smiles at me, flashing perfect white teeth. "There's my favourite little sister." He says, walking over and wrapping his arms around me in a hug.
I wince when he touches my back.
"Careful." My grandfather says quickly, his voice filled with warning.
Demian looks back at him. "She's fine. Aren't you?" He asks, returning his attention to me.
I nod a little.
"See?"
My grandfather watches him warily. He makes a small humming sound. He's about to say something when his phone starts ringing. He looks down at it and sighs a little bit as he leaves the room.
Demians demeanour shifts. He turns from happy to predatory in a matter of seconds. He goes over to the door and closes it all the way, then turns around.
"Aleksander mentioned you beat grandad in chess." He says. "That's great. None of us have ever been able to."
I stay silent, unsure of what it is that he wants. Why did he close the door? Is he going to hurt me? Why did my grandfather have to leave?
"He said grandad have you a hundred pound as a reward." He tells me. "Listen.. I'm gonna need you to give me it."
My eyes widen. "What?"
"You weren't staying with us for very long and you were always in your room, so you don't know this. But.. Petro makes all of us, even me, pay rent. And I don't have enough money. He's going to kick me out if I don't pay it."
"I'm sure grandad will let you stay here." I offer.
"I can't do that."
"Why not?" I ask quietly. "It-it's really nice here."
"I just can't." He says. He sits down across from me.
"Maybe grandad will give you the money." I say.
"You can't tell him." He's quick to respond. "Petro isn't supposed to charge any of us rent, so he'll get mad at me if he finds out that I told him."
"What about Aleksander?"
He's silent for a moment. Then his words rush out, like he's trying not to forget them. "Since he isn't here a lot he doesn't know, and he doesn't have to pay either. He'll tell grandad too."
"Oh." I whisper.
"Look, I know I haven't been very nice to you. And I'm sorry about that, I really am. And hey, even if you don't wanna give me the money I'll come back tomorrow night and we can watch a movie. I'll even bring snacks for us."
"You want us to watch a movie?" I ask. He wants to spend time with me? I thought he hated me, but maybe he doesn't if he wants to watch a movie with me.
"Of course." He smiles at me. "And don't worry, I'll pay you all the money back as soon as I can. I'll have it back to you, like, next week."
I scrunch my mouth to the side. My grandfather said I'm meant to be on bed rest, so he probably won't take me to the shopping centre for a while anyway. By the time he does hopefully Demian will have paid me back, right? And if it takes him until the end of next week then I can just hold off going to the shopping centre.
"Okay." I whisper.
His smile widens. "Thank you."
I lean toward the nightstand and open the drawer, pulling out the notes. I hold them out to him and he wastes no time before grabbing them.
"I'll be back tomorrow for our movie night." He says, standing up. "Thanks again." He adds as he walks out.
I frown a little; something feels wrong. But I push my growing worry back down. It isn't like he's not going to give me the money back. Until my grandfather takes me to the shopping centre I don't really have much need for any of it anyway. And I didn't work much for the money, I only played a game of chess.
A small smile tilts my lips upwards. Does Demian like me now that I did that? Does he want to be friends with me?
My grandfather steps into the room after a few minutes, pocketing his phone. "Sorry, любов." He says. "What did Demian want to say to you?"
(Translation: Love.)
"He said he wants to come tomorrow and we can watch a movie together." I say, smiling fully now.
He nods a little.
"Are-are we allowed?"
"Of course." He responds. "I'm going to drive him back to your brothers house and then I'll get you your ice cream. What flavour would you like?"
"Mint chocolate chip, please." I whisper.
"Okay." He says. "Aleksander is staying here tonight, he'll be downstairs if you need him."
I nod.
He leaves the room again, closing the door behind him gently. I lay on my stomach again. I expect it to feel like a heavy weight has been lifted from my shoulders, but instead the pit in my stomach deepens, almost dragging me into it. I sit up a little, shaking my head a bit. It's fine. It's not like he was lying. I wouldn't put it past Petro to make them all pay rent and kick them out for not paying in time.
I lay back down again, sighing. It's fine. I'll get the money back next week. I shouldn't blame it on him, anyway. I should blame it on Petro for forcing him to pay rent. I don't know how old Demian is but he goes to school too, so he's clearly a minor. He needed as much as one hundred pounds; how does Petro expect him to pay that when he likely doesn't even have a job?
I nod to myself. I did the right thing. I helped him and now he's going to like me. He's even going to come tomorrow and we're going to watch a movie together. It's fine. Everything is fine.
So why does this all feel so wrong?
The front door open and closed ages ago, so it's too late to go see Demian and ask him more questions. I can't ask Aleksander either.. but I can ask Maxim! He lives there and doesn't go on trips like Aleksander, so he should have to pay too, right?
He apologised to me, so maybe he'll want to come and see me soon. He seemed to care, but he might have forgotten all about that-all about everything-since he was drunk. His words were slurred and his mind was clearly bleary. Maybe he'll never visit me and he just wanted to say sorry because he wanted to get it off his chest-to move on and forget about me without any guilt.
My lips tilt downwards. I clench my eyes shut for a second before reopening them. I need to stop thinking about this. It's all fine.
I unpause the movie I'm watching, forcing myself to think about the scenes on screen so that my mind doesn't return to my previous, agonising train of thought. I'm so used to getting betrayed and lied to that it's difficult for me to trust people but I really just need to get over that. He just needs help, and I gave it to him. I kind of like it just being my grandfather and I here, so at least now that he's able to pay rent Demian can stay there instead of coming here.
I release a short, relieved breath at my realisation-everything truly is fine.