The Lost Year by Katherine Marsh

Author:Katherine Marsh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Roaring Brook Press

* * *

Nadiya chewed her Bumble Bear with her eyes closed. It reminded me of the way some people listen to music, one sense overcome by the other. There was no danger of entering into this state of bliss with Anna Mikhailovna’s current student, Vera, banging away. But at least the racket gave us cover to talk.

“You have a sweet tooth, like me,” I said.

Nadiya nodded with a satisfied “Mmmm.”

This pleased me, and not just because we were alike, as cousins should be. I was resolved to follow Anna Mikhailovna’s counsel and show her only kindness.

“You can have the whole bag,” I said.

She opened her eyes, studied me. I let myself see it now, how they were the same shape and color as my own.

“I couldn’t do that,” she said. “I’d get sick. Besides, I want to share them with Anna Mikhailovna and Olga Stepanovna.”

How generous she was! What a darling! But the more I loved her, the angrier I was at Papa. He had made me believe I was alone in the world, save for him. To think I had a cousin all this time, one around my own age!

“I never even asked, how old are you?”

“Thirteen,” she said.

“Just turned it?”

“In January.”

“I’ll be thirteen in November,” I said. “I figured you were younger, but I’m just taller.”

“It’s hard to grow when you have nothing to eat.”

Her rebuke stung. I hadn’t meant to insult her or raise the subject of the famine.

“That’ll change now,” I said, trying to make up for my thoughtless remark. “Olga Stepanovna is buying milk at the Torgsin, and I’m going to bring you Bumble Bears every time I visit. We’ll fatten you up!”

Nadiya smiled, but her eyes were knowing and sad, like she was years older than me, not just a few months.

“What?” I said.

“I don’t know how long I’ll be staying.”

“What do you mean? Has Anna Mikhailovna said anything?”

Nadiya shook her head. “I know she’s made inquiries. I heard her tell Olga Stepanovna. They won’t send me to an orphanage, but there are no other options.”

An image of the Collector and the dead child’s arm flashed in my head. “Of course they won’t send you to an orphanage! Olga Stepanovna treats you like her own granddaughter; Anna Mikhailovna adores you. They’ll keep you here.”

Nadiya’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t want to get them in trouble.”

My stomach tightened at the thought, but I pushed it away.

“Nonsense! Everyone is careful. They won’t get in trouble.”

“I’ve written our relatives in America to let them know what’s happened. Perhaps they can take me.”

I nearly fell off my seat. “What?! We have family in America?”

Nadiya nodded. “Our fathers’ eldest brother immigrated there before the War.”

First we were kulaks, now Papa had family in America … What next?! I half expected to find out that Papa had fought against the Revolution instead of for it.

“You can’t go to America,” I said. “We’d never see each other again! Besides, could they even come take you? Anna Mikhailovna is happy to keep you—I know her, I can tell.

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