As Svetlana didn't know the train schedule, she simply was staring at the tracks. The hollow feeling was back. How she had felt before letting Anatoly in. The hollowness from the week and a half before their marriage when Katya had played her. She should have made the connection. She had seen the mist and yet it didn't register now. Just emptiness and pain.
And then...his voice. That disgusting voice that made her skin crawl. Would she ever be free of Molokov? It was supposed to have ended when he died. Oh the memories were there, haunting her the more stressed she got. She would always worry about him returning yet she never expected to have to hear his voice again. The mocking tone that was so smug in his destroying of her soul. He had to remember his last time in Lawrence. Why else would he have killed her family in such a way? His initial plan was to hurt her, take her children. And now....
Body completely rigid, Svetlana turned her gaze to the man she thought was Molokov, glaring. Rage. Pain. It didn't matter. She knew her fate and she would sooner die.
"How reassuring. Are you hear to rub in the fact you killed my entire family?"
She should have brought a knife. Prepared for this. Or any of his men acting on his orders. But between overwhelming grief and being on autopilot, Svetlana hadn't planned ahead. She hadn't analyzed all outcomes so now she was vulnerable.
"Congratulations. You won. Are you going to make good on your threat from Bangkok now that you've had your revenge for last year?"
The edge to her voice was back. She was hardening herself again. It would be the only way to survive this. What did connections and being open to people matter with her daughters and husband dead? Assuming she even made it away from the tracks.