Chapter Thirty-Five

 

Across the country in Constanţa, Galya Prokhor heard Abby scream, he heard the cell phone crash to the ground, and he heard her whimpering.

None of that was as bad as when he heard nothing.

Thank God he insisted on knowing where she was staying. He had the number of the hotel written on a notepad beside the phone in the kitchen. He left the cell phone open as he grabbed the landline and dialed with shaking fingers. Jesus, she was only eighteen, what was he thinking, letting her take this on alone? He should have called her parents immediately when he learned of her harebrained plan, but he wanted to help Trixie, and though he was ashamed to admit it, he wanted to know what really happened to Ileana and was willing to put a kid in danger to get to the truth.

The clerk answered in Romanian, and Galya prayed she spoke English. “A woman has just been attacked outside your hotel!”

“Excuse me, sir?” she asked.

“I was speaking with my friend on her cell phone, and she was attacked. I’m all the way in Constanţa, I cannot help her. Please, make sure she is okay. Call the police.”

He heard the woman say something sharply to another person in the room. “Someone is checking,” she said into the phone. A few seconds later, there was rapid, panicked shouting, and Galya sensed the person holding the phone was running.

“She has no identification,” the clerk said after what seemed like an eternity. “What is her name?”

“Abhita Vicari. Abby. Listen to me. She’s an American, and she is both wealthy and influential. Make sure the paramedics know that. Make sure they tell the doctors.” Without being there with her, it was the only way he could think of to ensure she would get adequate medical care. Romania was not the foreign country where you wanted to be seriously hurt. Galya could only pray her injuries were superficial.

“The ambulance is on the way. Is she breathing?” the clerk asked someone. Galya did not inhale until he heard the response. “She is breathing. Her head is bleeding, and it looks like her shoulder is—is—I do not know the word. It is not correct.”

“Dislocated?”

“Perhaps. Her arm appears in poor condition. But she is breathing,” she reminded him.

Galya had been in many high pressure situations in his life, but none filled his body with more adrenaline and fear than this. Like when his brother died, and again when Shaye was in the hospital, he felt totally and infuriatingly helpless.

He could hear a siren approaching, and he found himself pacing the five-foot area of the kitchen, waiting impatiently for the next word. “What’s happening?” he shouted.

“I think she is waking up.”

“Put the phone next to her ear,” he demanded.

“Sure, okay.”

He paused for a beat then said loudly, “Abby? Abby? Abby, are you there? Abby!”

There was a moan and pathetic, incomprehensible muttering.

“Abby? Are you there?”

“Galya?”

Without warning, his eyes filled with tears. He was so relieved his knees felt weak, and he had to lean against the sink for support. “Yes, it’s Galya. Are you okay?”

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.” Then she began to cry, which made his heart tear apart.

“It’s okay, love. You’re going to be fine.”

“What happened? God, I’m dizzy.” She sniffled and broke down again.

“They’re going to take you to the hospital. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“They’re all speaking Romanian. No one’s telling me what’s happening. Stop touching me!” she cried out desperately.

“Abby, listen, you were attacked. You probably have a concussion.”

“Attacked? Why?”

“I don’t know.”

“My camera? My purse? Where are—where’s Cruz?”

“Cruz is in America, remember?”

“Oh.” Her weeping became soft, and he could sense her attempting to control her emotions. “I don’t want to go to the hospital. I don’t want to be there all alone.”

“I’m going to call your translator, tell her to meet you at the hospital, and I’ll hop on the first plane to Timişoara.”

“Don’t tell Cruz. Or my parents. I don’t want them to worry.”

“I promise I won’t call them until I get to the hospital and we know what’s going on.”

“Okay.”

“I know it’s scary because you can’t understand them, but let the medics take care of you.”

“Okay,” she repeated. “I really am going to be sick.”

There was a jostling sound, and the hotel clerk was back on the line. “Sir, the medics are saying they need to work.”

“Fine, just let me say one last thing to her.”

“Galya,” she said when she was back on the line. “Please, don’t hang up.”

“They won’t let me stay on the line with you, otherwise I would. It will only be a few minutes before Veronica arrives at the hospital. Stay strong for just a little longer. You’re being so brave.”

“Tell Veronica to hurry.”

“I will. Hang in there, Abby.” He gave his cell phone number to the hotel clerk and told her to call him if she heard any news. He stepped into his tennis shoes, threw a couple changes of clothes into his overnight bag, and headed out the front door. It was only two blocks from the apartment above the restaurant to the Dalcas’ house, and he called Veronica as he jogged.

“Oh, God,” she exclaimed when he told her the news. “Is she okay?”

“I think so, but I don’t know for sure. Can you please go to the hospital?”

“Of course. I’ll call as soon as I hear anything.”

“Thank you. I might be on an airplane, so leave me a message.”

“I’ll take care of her. You get here safely.”

He hung up and entered the Dalcas’ house through the back kitchen door. Tavian was still at the restaurant, and he found the girls sitting in front of the television, watching a movie. Even though he was worried and rushed, he couldn’t help asking, “Why are you watching a movie in Romanian?”

“I speak Romanian,” Trixie said without looking up.

“It’s Titanic,” Shaye countered. “It’s hysterical in any language.”

“Girls, I have to go up to Timişoara tonight, so I won’t be in the gym tomorrow.”

“What’s in Timişoara?” Shaye asked.

Trixie’s response was more on point. “What happened to Abby?”

“Don’t panic.”

Now both girls were alert and apprehensive. “Galya, tell us,” Trixie demanded.

“You’ll find out soon enough, I suppose. Abby was attacked outside her hotel room.”

They both bolted to their feet. “What?”

“She’s going to be fine, but—”

“How do you know that?” Shaye challenged.

“I just believe it. I have to go. There are probably only one or two more flights out tonight.”

“Well, we’re coming with you,” Shaye said as she slipped into a pair of flip flops.

“You have to practice.”

“We’ll spend a couple days in Timişoara, head to Norway a few days early. It’ll be fine,” Shaye argued.

“I don’t think—”

“We owe Abby,” she said forcefully. “Galya, we owe her.”

“All right. I don’t have time to argue, and short of chaining you to the sofa, I doubt I’d be able to stop you. I’ll call the airline. You girls pack your bags.”

He found a flight at ten-thirty with many empty seats. He looked at his watch and decided to book it, thinking they’d make it with about twenty minutes to spare.

“Come on, ladies, we have to hurry,” he called upstairs.

The sentence was not completely out of his mouth when there was angry yelling in Romanian followed by footsteps thundering down the stairs.

“What’s the problem?”

“I’m going,” Trixie shouted, throwing her bag over her shoulder.

Her mother was hot on her heels. “You are not going to Timişoara. I will not allow it.”

“Abby is hurt, she needs us. You can’t stop me, Mother.”

“No one in this family is going back to that hospital,” Magda said.

“Oh, that’s rich. All of a sudden I’m a member of this family,” Trixie retorted.

“Do not speak to me in that tone.”

“I’ll speak to you in whatever tone I want since you haven’t been all that concerned with being my mom since Ileana died.”

“Trixie,” Galya said. “Hold on a minute.”

“No!” she shrieked. “I’ve had it! I’m about to go to the Olympics, I’m about to accomplish something most people can’t even dream of, and none of it is good enough because I’m not Ileana.”

“That is not the problem,” Magda yelled back, only inches from her daughter’s face. The sheer passionate force of raw emotion stopped all movement in the room. She spent the last few months so withdrawn they weren’t sure she still had the power for such a display. “I am proud of you, Beatrix, prouder than you could ever know, but you were always destined for greatness. You were always going to leave us, and I was happy for you. Even though Ileana left to train, she was always the one I knew would eventually come home to me. Since you were little, I knew you were special, fated for more than Constanţa can offer. But Ileana...I thought she would always be mine.”

Trixie’s voice was a whisper. “Why didn’t you ever tell me this before? How could you say all those horrible things to me and let me believe that you hate me?”

“I never thought I would lose Ileana, and I always knew you would leave. I’m going to lose both my daughters in the same year, and it is easier for me not to need you now, when I know you must go.”

“You don’t blame me?” she asked meekly. “Despite everything you said? You really don’t blame me?”

“I just want Ileana back.”

“We need to go,” she said, turning away from her mother and facing Galya.

Shaye peeked around the entryway from the stairwell. “Trixie, maybe you should stay.”

“My misery and sadness have been multiplied a thousand times because of how nasty and awful she’s been, and all that doesn’t go away because now she suddenly realized I won’t be around forever.” She turned to her mother, hot tears streaming down her face. “I’ve needed you so desperately. I will never forget how much you hurt me, how every word you said poked a tiny hole in my heart. You bled me completely, Mother, and now there’s nothing left.”

“I’m sorry,” Magda whispered. “Against my better judgment, I let Ileana go to Deva, and it killed her. I killed her as sure as if I’d done it with my own hand, and I don’t deserve you now.”

Trixie turned away and ran out the front door so fast she left a breeze in her wake.

Shaye said softly to her coach, “We really need to go.” They walked out the door, leaving Magda alone with her regrets.

In the cab on the way to the airport, Galya put his arm around Trixie but said nothing. At the moment, he was too concerned for Abby to offer much consolation to her. All he could hope was that Shaye would come through in the crunch and pull her friend through this. She usually did.