Chapter 8
850words
Katerina couldn't cough up a cent of the money Mom gave her. The second they landed, she and Chris bailed, leaving three half-grown kids behind.
Mom wanted to call the cops. Didn't even know the number.
She sat in that empty house, cursing the walls and blowing up my phone. We all had our ringers off. No one jumped to answer.
Then Katerina's youngest almost drowned in the pool. That finally brought the police, and Katerina and Chris came back.
From what I heard, the second they walked in, Chris straight-up punched Mom. No warning. Just bam—down she went.
He pointed at her like she was trash. Called her a useless old woman who couldn't even watch a kid.
She hit the floor. Katerina screamed.
Mom had never been hit in her life. Back at our place, Pavel treated her better than his own mother. That one punch? Cracked her pride clean in half.
She clung to Katerina, sobbing. Said she wanted to go back to Bellavaro. Said she finally saw it—Katerina wasn't even half as dependable as me.
Demanded her money back. Said she just wanted to go home and live out the rest of her days in peace.
Katerina went pale. Said the money was gone. Just gone.
Mom kept mumbling, "All gone... all gone...' Eyes rolled back. Then she fainted.
***
I heard later she woke up in the hospital alone.
Katerina had run off to check on her kid. Chris didn't even pretend to care.
Mom had no cash. Couldn't pay the bill.
Cops had to track Katerina down and make her handle it.
I could picture it—Mom slumped in that hospital bed, looking like someone had yanked the spine right out of her. Hair probably even grayer.
She said she was done and wanted to go back to Bellavaro. Told Katerina to take her back right then. Said she missed me, missed our dad, and couldn't believe this was what her life had turned into.
Katerina laughed—cold and empty. Said she couldn't even afford a ticket. Told Mom to ask me to send the money.
Hard no.
Mom called, voice shaking. "Anya, I know I was wrong. Let me come home. Please. Take care of me now."
I picked at my ear. "Huh? Bad signal, Mom. Gotta go—taking Dad fishing."
Click.
After that, I stopped picking up. From what I heard, Mom couldn't reach me at all. Plane ticket? She barely had enough for a sandwich.
Katerina shoved her into a dishwashing job—crap pay, constant discrimination. Mom got a taste of real hardship, and it was bitter.
She finally scraped together enough for a flight home, and guess what? Katerina stole it.
She apparently told Mom not to blame her, claimed that if it hadn't been for Mom, Chris wouldn't have left, and said she had to go find him.
And just like that, Katerina ran off chasing her dirtbag husband. The kids got dumped into foster care.
That mansion? Just a rental. Lease ended, and Mom got the boot.
She ended up sleeping on park benches for days. Autumn hit, and her arthritis flared bad. Lying there, she thought about her last life.
This time of year back then, she'd been at my place. We'd set a full table, her favorite comfort food right in the center.
She cried. Full-on, silent tears. She finally regretted everything.
Eventually, her visa expired, and they deported her.
The second she touched Bellavaro soil, she broke down sobbing.
Dad and Pavel were the ones who went to get her. I wanted no part of it.
I told them flat out—I wasn't breaking the agreement. I wasn't taking care of Mom again.
Mom knew she messed up and wouldn't stop apologizing.
"Anya, I know I was wrong. I'm really sorry. You're the only good child I have..."
Her voice cracked.
I didn't even blink. She was talking about the last life, not this one. And saying sorry now couldn't undo everything that came before.
***
Mom and Dad moved in next door, but I didn't go out of my way to see her.
She did seem different, though. Two months overseas had knocked something loose.
Next time I heard about Katerina? Immigration called.
She looked wrecked when I showed up.
The second she saw me, she latched onto my waist, bawling.
"Anya, I was tricked! Chris is garbage. He already had a whole other family—I was just the side chick. And forget rich—he's a scammer who cons women for cash. He's in jail now. I swear, never again. No more foreign guys!"
Well, that came out faster than I expected.
I peeled her off and dusted off my coat.
"Cool. Remember that. Mom's still waiting for you to step up. The apartments are gone, so rent something. And do me a favor—stay out of my face. Just looking at you drains me."
Then I turned and walked off, sunlight pouring across my back.
This time? I'm living for me.
