Romanov by Nadine Brandes

Author:Nadine Brandes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Thomas Nelson
Published: 2019-05-06T23:00:00+00:00

19

I hid the doll in the corner of the main room, right up against the wall of Yurovsky’s office and inside my spare pair of shoes. It wasn’t safe—but nothing was safe these days. I had to hope that Yurovsky’s pocket watch would point toward his office. I had to hope it would buy me some time.

None of the soldiers would talk to us. They were loyal to Yurovsky through and through. Even Papa stopped trying. I could tell each time he approached a new soldier his heart wasn’t in it. He was giving up. We were all giving up. He barely got three words out before the soldiers leveled their guns at him.

There would be no alliances. It was rescue or death.

Three days in a row, Yurovsky rode out on a horse and did not return until late. On those days, we received our full time in the garden, but the laughs were subdued. Mamma never came out. Olga stayed inside to read to her. Maria was a glassy-eyed shell, and Alexei could only bear to be moved from his bed every other day.

My family was fading.

Anytime I saw Zash, he stood stiff as a statue. Chin raised. Rifle gripped. Encased in ice.

Gunshots echoed from the city, seeming more frequent than they ever were before. Louder now that we were outdoors instead of trapped in our five-room prison. Something was happening out there.

So on the third day, I left the garden early and returned to our rooms. Zash would be on landing duty once my family returned. For now I muttered to the current Bolshevik that it was too hot outside for me.

He didn’t respond. I pushed myself into the main room. Mamma was asleep on her bed. Perfect. I retrieved the doll from my shoe, closed myself in my bedroom, and dropped to my knees at my bedside. I knew what I had to do, and the only safe way to vent my concerns was through prayer. Help me, Iisus.

That was all I could manage. My family wasn’t alone in their despair. I was fading, too. And perhaps soon I wouldn’t have the strength to try to save my family. I needed to know what spell the Matryoshka doll held. I needed to know what weapons we had for survival.

The White Army wasn’t coming. I had to do something while I could.

I held the doll in front of me. The seam was complete. A thick black line ringed the center of the doll, shining light no longer. My heart thundered in my chest and I managed to dig a thumbnail into the crack.

“Don’t use it until the White Army arrives,” Papa had said. “Or at the last possible moment.”

I rubbed a thumb over the doll’s face. The time spent against my sweaty skin and my rough corset had scraped away some of the paint. I gripped it in my fist as the pounding footsteps of my family ascended the stairs. They returned and took up whatever games or entertainment they’d been indulging in prior to the garden time.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.