Chapter 9

“It’s true. They lived next door to us in the new apartment building the factory had built. More precisely, they moved in when Grisha started tenth grade. Anya’s father was the factory’s chief engineer; he’d been transferred to us from the capital, while her mother was some kind of artist. A young, striking woman of extraordinary beauty. Anya said her mother had worked as an actress at some theater before she got married, but I don’t remember the details anymore. I do remember that remarkable couple, though, and their older son, Nikolai—your uncle. I can still see him as clearly as if it were yesterday. He was a proud young man who worked with his father. They were in a different league from us, and we weren’t their equals, so we never associated with them.”

At that point, I sighed, as I had many times before when Grandma told the story, and she stroked my shoulder in the familiar way.

“I’m telling it the way it happened, Nastia. You can’t rewrite the story. I raised my Grisha myself, without a father, in a communal apartment, while they were a family with status and standing. Anya was the only quiet one among them; I don’t know who she took after. Anyway, the moment my Grisha saw her, he went crazy. He followed her like a shadow and loitered beneath her windows. He didn’t dare approach her, but he couldn’t live without her. I kept hoping his obsessive love would pass. Fat chance! Twice I dragged that fool down from the roof. The first time was when the older brother’s friend proposed to Anya, right after graduation, and the second… Well, the second time he actually jumped. It’s a good thing the balcony ropes caught him, and that there happened to be a snowdrift the janitor had piled up beneath the windows. Grisha survived by a miracle. I went gray. I could have lost both my children in a single day. Oh, sweetheart, I hate remembering that terrible time. Such grief. You’re the only joy my son and I have left. You’re Anya’s double, no two ways about it.”

A nurse came in to take Grandma’s blood pressure and give her an injection, and I quietly stepped aside. I went downstairs to the cafeteria for some kefir, then changed the sheets. We sat by the window a little longer, watching evening settle, and I told Grandma about school and my new friends until an orderly came in and reminded us of the time. It was time for visiting hours to end.

“Oh, Nastia, we’ve been sitting here forever! We lost track of time! Run home, sweetheart—it’s completely dark already! Your father will worry.”

I don’t know why I said it. Probably because Grandma was the closest person to me, and the words simply slipped out.

“He won’t. He doesn’t love me at all. He never has.”

“Don’t say that, Nastia! Of course he loves you. He always has. What nonsense!”

“No.”

But we both knew there was more beneath the surface than we let on, and Grandma sighed wearily.

“He still can’t come to terms with Anya’s death. So many years have passed, but whenever Grisha comes, he takes flowers to the cemetery. He can’t forgive himself or the family she came from. You don’t just forget your first love from school.”

“But what about me? What did I do wrong, Grandma…?”

Visiting hours were over, and I went back out onto the avenue, where the streetlights were already on. I joined the flow of pedestrians and decided to take a little walk. I’d never been alone that late in an unfamiliar city, but I had no idea when my stepbrother’s party would start or end. I really didn’t want to make him angry, and all I could do was hope I’d be able to catch the last bus. Or the second-to-last. Then my parents would be back. They would, right?… I wondered how late the route ran and where I could find the schedule.

“Could you tell me where the bus terminal is, by any chance?”

“Which one do you need? The South Bus Station?”

“P-probably.”

“Go up a block, then take the No. 12 tram and get off two stops before the end of the line.”

“Thank you.”

“You passed it, honey. You’ll have to go back.”

“Thank you.”

“No, the bus to Cherekhino doesn’t leave from here. That’s the other direction.”

“I’m sorry…”

I checked my pocket—there was very little money left, just enough for a bus ticket back. I stepped out of the terminal and looked around. How long had I been on the tram? It couldn’t have been that long. If I hurried, I’d definitely make it back to school, and from there, home. If only I could find the way.

My phone said it was nine p.m. I had to hurry.

I walked for a long time. So long that my hands and feet went numb, my teeth chattered, and my tongue barely worked. I turned onto the better-lit side streets in the city center, trying not to lose sight of the tram line, but before I knew it, I was lost.

“Could you tell me where School 107 is?”

“Is that a joke? Not a very good one, I have to say…”

“Could you please tell me which way Cherekhino is?”

“No idea.”

“Do you know…”

“Why don’t you go home, girl? It’s dark out! Where are your parents, anyway?”

“Excuse me, but…”

“You’re alone, little one? Seriously, all alone? I could walk you home—you’re so skinny. Hey, wait! Where are you running? Stop!”

I didn’t want to call my father. I really didn’t. He had never given me any reason to think he was waiting for my call, and I was almost afraid to bother him out of the blue and admit how stupid I’d been. Especially since he was far away and almost certainly too busy to help me. But besides my father’s number, I knew only Grandma’s, and telling her I was lost would have been enough to give her a heart attack…

“Yes, Nastia? What? You’re breaking up. Sorry, Galya and I are a little busy. We have a major equipment breakdown at the plant!” I heard banging, men’s voices, and my stepmother’s loud, commanding voice in the background. “We’ll talk later, honey, okay? Good night.”

“Good night… Dad… Dad!” But the old phone’s screen blinked one last time and went dark.

Tears spilled from my eyes. The streets were dark and lonely, and I had no idea where to go. The snow just kept falling and falling, covering the city in white grains.