He dropped his head. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.”
“No, you shouldn’t have. You have no idea what it’s like to be a woman. Men think they can take whatever they want, whenever they want from us. We never have a choice in that.”
Katya stood and brushed herself off. “Let’s go in and eat.”
She didn’t tell him that she’d search the fields again. She’d pay any cost to keep Halya alive, because her survival was Katya’s sole purpose for existing.
“Not all men,” he said, his voice so soft Katya could hardly hear him.
“No, maybe not all men.” She pulled herself up to her feet. “Now let’s go in the house. The baby needs to eat.”
That night, as she lay in bed, Katya flipped through the tear-stained pages of her journal. She’d written about losing Pavlo and Viktor, and she would write about what that vicious man had done. She’d promised Pavlo she would record their story, even the unbearable.
She picked up her pencil and began. The words flowed in a monotone voice, documenting the horror of that night as if it had happened to someone else. In her recounting of the incident, she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing.
Maybe my heart has finally given up, she thought. After all, it can only take so much, and I think I have far surpassed what most hearts can endure. Perhaps it is only an empty shell now, incapable of feeling anything.
She finished the entry and looked over at the sleeping baby. Halya, her lashes thick against her pale cheeks and her dark curls framing her thin face, sighed and turned toward Katya in her sleep. A fierce and desperate love surged through Katya, and she reached out and pulled Halya close. As Halya’s warm body snuggled into hers, Katya knew she was lying to herself. Her heart could never give up while this sweet child still needed her.
“She will survive this, Alina,” Katya said into the cold night. “No matter what I have to do. I swear it.”
She closed her eyes and imagined Halya, grown up and beautiful with dark hair and flashing blue eyes like Alina. Katya sighed as she tucked the pencil inside her journal, then she wrapped her arms around Halya and slept.
“I have good news,” Kolya announced one evening when he came home from the village.
As always, he went straight to Halya and scooped her into his arms. She giggled as he nuzzled his face into her cheek and tickled her. A surprising surge of affection rose up in Katya as she saw the love shining on his face for his daughter.
He tucked Halya against his chest and went on. “They’ve opened a Torgsin store in the next town over. We can bring any gold or jewelry we have there and trade it for food.”
“How is this good?” Katya set a bowl of watery potato soup on the table and put her hands on her hips. She’d snuck back to another potato field early that morning, thankfully without running into any other angry activists. “We don’t have any gold or jewelry to trade. They’ve already taken everything.”
“That’s not true. I still have my grandmother’s ring.” Mama went to her bed and dug into her pillow, searching for the hidden ring. She held it up, admiring the glittery red stone set on a thin band of gold. “It will do me no good if we’re all dead. Our lives are more important than jewelry.”
Katya frowned. “How can they offer food for the very things they have said we should not possess? What if it’s a trap?”
Kolya shook his head. “This is their way of ensuring they own every last one of our precious items. They won’t have to come searching for it. We’ll deliver it to them.”
Mama slipped the ring off and set it on the table. “I thought I’d seen everything, but apparently there is no end to their deception.”
“I may have some more things to trade,” Kolya said.
Katya looked at him in surprise. “What do you have?”
“There are some things hidden at my parents’ house. Nobody’s been living there for some time, so it hasn’t been searched recently. My mother had some jewelry that she always kept tucked away. When the activists first started in with their raids, she had Pavlo…” He trailed off as he glanced at Katya.
She tried to keep her face blank so Kolya wouldn’t see the pain that shot through her whenever she heard his name. After all this time, his death still hurt as if it had happened yesterday. Kolya stared at her as if he could read her mind, and she pushed her feelings back down where they lived in a tight knot in her gut.
“It’s fine. You don’t have to be afraid to say his name.”