glass door to the aisle. Apparently, no one is nearby because she turns back toward me, but she doesn’t leave her position guarding the door.
I tear open the Longchamp backpack—it is lighter than my leather duffel—and start shoving everything I need inside.
“Sophia, stop it,” my mother says harshly.
I grasp for anything within reach: my Swedish and South African passports, my FN 5-7, extra ammunition, a dark lipstick, three bricks of euros and three bricks of American dollars from my mother’s handbag.
“I’m leaving. I’m going back to Waterford—”
“Sophia, you can’t.”
“Yes, I can!” Every part of me wants to detonate. I shove in an extra euro brick because the backpack isn’t yet full. “All you tell me is what I can and can’t do, and I’m finished listening to you. Your rules have never protected me. I’m safer without you, and I don’t care anymore what you say or what you’re trying to teach me because I don’t want to be anything like you!”
I slip on my wool coat and fasten the buttons.
“I was kidnapped because of you. I left Waterford because of you. Aksel’s parents are dead because of you! Bekami thinks by capturing me, he can blackmail you into providing him weapons, and I won’t be a part of this anymore! I don’t want to be a part of anything you’re involved in!”
I sling the bag over my shoulder. Their reaction isn’t what I expect. Simultaneously, my parents reach their hands forward, grasping mine. The quick, synchronized movement stuns me.
On my skin, I feel my mother’s delicate fingertips, and below my palm, the chapped, sturdy skin of my father’s thumb.
My mother’s back faces the glass now. I am like a child, cradled between them. But the way they are looking at me … It is as if they are becoming extremely ill, extremely fast. My mother’s face is ashen.
My father is sweating. “There’s more you need to know. About Katranov and St. Petersburg—”
“I don’t care about Katranov or St. Petersburg or any other mission!” I yank back my hand, but my mother keeps me in place, her fingers like a strand of pearls strangling my wrist.
“I care about Aksel! And it doesn’t matter what you tell me unless you explain why you’re determined to destroy my life!” I struggle to free myself of her tight fingers.
My mother speaks first. “After we got him out of St. Petersburg, Anton Katranov was killed, Sophia. I should have protected him. I should have saved them all, but I didn’t. I couldn’t.”
“Let me go!” I say through clenched teeth. “I’m leaving!”
“Sophia, you can’t.” My mother lifts her azure eyes to my father. “You’re in danger—it’s why we’re always here to protect you.”
“I don’t want to be protected!”
Almost imperceptibly my father nods to my mother.
She swallows. “We have to explain …” Her face glistens beneath a film of sweat. Her eyes are blue oceans of sadness.
My father squeezes my hand.
Finally, as if it takes all the breath in her chest to push out the words, my mother speaks clearly to me. “Sophia.” She closes her eyes. “Honey … you’re not our daughter.”
CHAPTER 50
I remember when I dropped into the water in the Indian Ocean and had to count to a hundred before breaking the surface. It was as though all the oxygen had left my lungs, and I would never get it back. I feel that way now—as if I’ll never breathe again.
“Y-y-you’re lying,” I stutter. Losing my balance, I thrust my arm upright and grab hold of the luggage rack.
I heard her wrong. My mother resembles me—wide-set eyes, a similar pale blue color to mine, and freckles across the bridge of her nose. We both have a tall, slender build—people comment on how lucky I am to have her long legs and elegant stride. We have different noses and my lips are fuller, but I look like both of them. I do.
My father starts to speak. “This is difficult—”
I flee to the bathroom and vomit into the toilet. My hair gets caught in it, and tears run down my face. Before I know it, I am choking and sobbing.
Leaning against the wall, I close my eyes. My backpack slides off my shoulder and onto my wrist. I drop it to the floor, slumping down after it.
I fold myself into the tightest shape I can manage; I can’t stop shaking.
After a few minutes, I manage to stand. I swish clean water around in my mouth and spit it into the sink. I rinse my soiled