As the final moments of Aunt Svetlana’s life slipped away into silence, Vasilisa stood over her,

  the weight of what she had done crushing her chest. Her heart thundered in her ears, drowning

  out everything else. The room, once filled with tension and noise, was now eerily quiet—save for

  the faint rasping breath of Alina still struggling to recover from her aunt’s chokehold.

  Alina looked up at her, her eyes wide and filled with horror. She was trembling, her skin pale,

  still gasping for air. She didn’t speak, but the look on her face said everything.

  Vasilisa’s throat tightened, the knife still gripped in her hand like it was a part of her now—a

  symbol of the irreversible thing she had done. The blood on her hands was more than just

  physical. It was everything: the broken trust, the shattered bond between her and her sister, and

  the darkness she could never take back.

  But in the silence, another sound reached her ears—the faint, hurried footsteps of someone

  running. Vasilisa’s head snapped toward the door. Her eyes darted around the room, searching

  for the source of the noise.

  Eric.

  The man who had torn their family apart was already gone.

  Vasilisa’s mind screamed at her to do something—to run, to think, to protect them both. But she

  stood there frozen for a moment, before reality hit her like a tidal wave.

  Eric had vanished.

  And Alina—Alina, her precious sister—was no longer the only person at risk. The police would

  come. They would come for them, for the murder that had just taken place. Vasilisa could

  already hear the sirens, feel the cold hand of law closing in on them. This would not be a simple

  matter of bloodshed. This would be a life-altering, irreversible event.

  Her heart raced. She couldn’t let Alina face the authorities. She couldn’t let her sister be caught

  up in this mess—especially not because of her. The fear in Alina’s eyes, the way she looked at

  her now—Vasilisa knew that her sister would never understand. Not now. Not after what had

  happened.

  "Alina," she whispered, her voice barely a rasp. She took a step toward her, slowly, cautiously.

  "We need to leave. We need to get out of here. Now."

  Alina flinched, shrinking away from her. But Vasilisa had already grabbed her sister’s trembling

  arm, pulling her toward the door with urgency in her every movement. There was no time to

  explain. No time to apologize. All that mattered now was getting away—before the police,

  before everything they knew came crashing down around them.

  Alina stared at her, still wide-eyed and breathless, but her face was pale with fear, confusion.

  "Vasilisa… what… what happened?"

  "There's no time," Vasilisa cut her off, her voice more desperate than she had ever heard it

  before. "We’re running away. Do you hear me? We can’t stay here. The police will come.

  You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

  They’ll know. We have to go."

  Alina didn’t respond, but her expression faltered. She could see the fear in Vasilisa’s eyes, the

  raw desperation that made her sister’s grip so tight around her wrist. She didn’t speak. She just

  nodded, too shocked to fully comprehend what was happening, too terrified to argue.

  Vasilisa pulled her into the car—Svetlana’s old car. It had always been a symbol of her aunt’s

  strange control over their lives, but now, it was their only means of escape. Vasilisa slammed the

  door shut, her hands trembling as she gripped the wheel.

  "Where are we going?" Alina asked, her voice small and shaky.

  "I don't know," Vasilisa replied, her voice hoarse. "Anywhere. Far away from here."

  The engine sputtered to life, and Vasilisa floored the accelerator, the tires screeching as they

  sped down the road. Behind them, the house—her aunt’s house—faded into the distance, but

  Vasilisa knew it wouldn’t be long before the sirens came. They would be looking for her. For

  them.

  She didn’t know where they would go, didn’t know what would happen next. But she knew they

  had no choice.

  As the miles stretched between them and the life they had once known, Vasilisa’s mind raced.

  What had Eric meant by running? Had he been planning this all along, or had he simply seen the

  opportunity in her aunt’s death and seized it for himself?

  No matter what, Vasilisa knew he had betrayed them. He had been nothing but trouble—nothing

  but a liar who had come into their lives with false promises, only to tear them apart. And now he

  was gone, running, leaving them behind to face the consequences of everything he had been a

  part of.

  But that didn’t matter now. What mattered was the future. Alina was looking at her like a

  stranger, eyes full of fear and confusion. But Vasilisa couldn’t let that stop her. She couldn’t let

  Alina’s fear become her own.

  The road ahead was dark, the night stretching out before them like an endless abyss. And for the

  first time in a long time, Vasilisa felt the weight of her decisions, the weight of what she had

  become.

  "Alina," she whispered, her voice breaking, "I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to

  happen."

  Alina didn’t respond. She just stared out the window, her face pale, her eyes lost in thought.

  The miles ticked by, and Vasilisa kept driving, her grip tight on the wheel. She didn’t know

  where they were headed. She didn’t know how they would survive. But she would make sure

  they did. She would make sure Alina lived, even if it meant running forever.

  But in the back of her mind, she knew that this was just the beginning. The consequences of

  tonight’s actions would follow them, and nothing would be the same.

  And now, as the weight of everything they had left behind bore down on her, Vasilisa could only

  hope that the road ahead would offer something—anything—that could save them.