❝ and how could you possibly hurt me? you are the one that saved me. ❞ humming as she walked towards her, wondering what could have brought this up, who was she talking to that this would even become a thought in her mind. ❝ Ба́бушка гада́ла, на́двое сказа́ла.❞ her russian was rusty and a bit clumsy and she didn’t even know if she was saying it right but it was still comforting to speak to her like she was keeping a secret. ❝ what has happened to me, what will happen to me–it’s never been your fault. it’s been my choice. ❞
“Is it true that they tortured you here?” Phillip’s words ring on the back of her head – you have no idea of what we did to her, of what we did to him. of what we can still do. “Coming here wasn’t your choice. It was mine. I chose it for you.” Would she rather be home, in Russia? Would she rather be in the room of a sleazy hotel, the three of them sharing a bed that is just too small for them, moving and changing positions until they fit, all of them, together. Would she be happier, not remembering, not knowing? Anna knows she would.