As I fumbled with the lock, he spoke from behind me.

“Is it because of me?”

“…What?”

“You don’t look well. If it’s because of my engagement—”

A hollow laugh escaped me. Yes, I had grieved over my unrequited love. But if that were all, everything would be so much simpler. I could have let go of Archum without a second thought. Such a pitiful affection would have been easy to cast aside.

But I couldn’t be so indifferent to Seryozha’s death. At any moment, I felt I might burst into tears.

Desperate not to break down in front of Archum, I flung the door open. Just as I tried to shut him out, he grabbed my arm and pulled me back.

“Svyeta, Jürgen isn’t good for you.”

“Let go.”

“You—!”

“I said, let go!”

It felt like we struggled forever. In the end, Archum won. He pulled me into his arms, leaving me gasping and dazed.

Archum had always been a gentle and composed man. He must have been born that way. He had never handled me so roughly before.

But in that moment, his grip dragged me straight back to last night and Jurgen’s hands tearing me apart: prying, forcing and thrusting in an attempt to degrade me.

“Don’t touch me!”

I screamed and shoved him away. His face flushed with shock.

“Are you planning to drag me into an affair?”

Men always thought I was easy. They were always certain that I could be bought; that a few coins would turn me into a pr*stitute. Just like Jurgen last night, they all treated me like something cheap.

The thought that Archum might see me the same way and look down on me too filled me with shame.

Tears spilled down my cheeks.

Damn it! Why did I have to suffer like this? Why did I have to suffer like this?

Damn the communists. Damn the capitalists. Damn all of them.

Even though the Tsar had been executed, people still believed that he was alive. The only difference was the title: ‘tsar’ had been replaced by ‘general secretary’. Nothing had truly changed. My noble father had been killed, yet the nobility still existed. Serfdom had been abolished, yet serfs remained. Revolutionary statues adorned every town square, yet the world was still ruled by kings and lords. The people would never be their own masters. They would never be free.

And neither would I.

I was nothing more than a slave—pushed, pulled, sold to men, and now humiliated even by the one I loved. Everything was contemptible.

I staggered inside and locked the door tight, so Archum couldn’t follow. Then I collapsed against the floor.

I wept like a child.

“Brother…”

Visions of my brothers in the concentration camps flickered before me. I saw my mother, who had fallen ill and died from despair; my father, who was executed by a firing squad; and my brothers, who were still imprisoned. All their faces swam in my mind, one after another.

‘I’ll save them.’

That fragile hope was all that was left for me to cling to. If that meant giving my body to Jürgen, then so be it.

✹✹ ✹✹ ✹✹ ✹✹ ✹✹

At dawn the next day, I woke in the narrow bed.

‘What time is it? I need to get to work…’

I only realized that I had fallen asleep still wearing Jürgen’s clothes when I switched on the light.

The clock on the wall read 5:47. Despite the crushing fatigue weighing me down, I got up before six out of habit. Perhaps a small stroke of luck.

As soon as I stood up, I felt an ache rippling through every limb. Ever since that night with Jürgen, my body had not felt right.

I put a kettle on the gas stove.

‘A cup of tea, a wash, then work.’

As I sat there blankly, the kettle whistled shrilly. The water was ready. I poured myself a cup of tea, sat down on the sofa, and held the steaming liquid in both hands.

I was tired. My whole body trembled and my vision spun. It was no wonder, given that I hadn’t eaten properly in two days.

I longed for spiced black bread with borscht. I wanted warm milk instead of this bitter tea. But there was nothing. So, I sipped the last of my tea and headed to the communal showers.

There was no hot water. Unless you visited the public bathhouse, washing in freezing water was the norm in winter. I scrubbed myself furiously with soap until I was red and shivering, my teeth chattering.

I thought of Jurgen’s bathroom, with its hot water and shampoo. That explained the clean scent that constantly clung to him. Not the sting of cheap soap, but the faint trace of imported shampoo.

Once I had finished, I wrapped myself up in layers. I put on a thick coat and wrapped a scarf around my neck several times, but it wasn’t enough. The cold was so intense that I could feel frost forming on my skin.

“Ugh…”

A sudden wave of dizziness hit me, making me stagger and almost collapse. However, I managed to steady myself just in time. I hadn’t eaten for almost two days. I had no strength left. If only I could sip some hot broth, I was sure I would recover.

For some reason, there was a police officer standing by the entrance to the apartment block. I hadn’t done anything wrong, so I walked past him without a care in the world.

“Miss Antonovna?”

“…Yes?”

The officer checked my face, then without warning clamped irons around my wrist. My chest dropped like a stone.

“W–why… what are you doing?”

My heart pounded furiously as he spoke in a flat, indifferent tone.

“A report was filed for vehicle theft.”

“What? That’s—”

“Miss Antonovna, you are under arrest on suspicion of automobile theft.”

Only then did I remember—I had stolen Jurgen’s car.

“Wait, Officer. Jurgen and I know each other well. In fact, we’re—”

But the word engaged stuck in my throat. I couldn’t say it.

“Save it for the station. Get in.”

The officer shoved me into the patrol car and drove me to the precinct.

✹✹ ✹✹ ✹✹ ✹✹ ✹✹

Two hours had passed behind the bars.

The other detainees chattered endlessly about their supposed innocence, but none of it reached me. I was consumed by one thought alone: I’m going to be late for work. I’ll be fired. I’ll lose everything.

“Officer! I have to get to work! You can’t keep me here without charges—it’s illegal!”

“Quiet down, girl!”

“I’ll be fired! Are you going to take responsibility when I lose my job?”

The officer just snorted and ignored me.

Jurgen? When was he coming?

I clawed at my hair and sighed repeatedly. Only he could fix this. I wouldn’t be released until he arrived. Only then could I start work.

I must have fallen asleep from sheer exhaustion while waiting.

When I awoke, someone was shaking me by the shoulders. It was Jürgen.

“Svyeta?”

He pulled me up with a firm grip, then turned to the officer with a smile.

“She’s my fiancée, Officer.”

“Fiancée?”

“Yes. Seems she took my car without asking.”

“Ha! Hahaha!”

The officer burst into hearty laughter, waving a hand dismissively.

“Well, all’s well then. Glad it’s sorted. You two take care.”

“Yes. Thank you for your trouble.”

Jürgen dragged me out of the police station. The moment the cold air hit my lungs, I doubled over and started coughing violently. It was even colder than before, and it had started to snow.

“Thanks to you, I’ve had the pleasure of taking a taxi for the first time.”

“You didn’t have to go as far as filing a report.”

“I had no idea my fiancée was a kleptomaniac.”

I pressed a throbbing hand to my forehead and sighed. My body felt utterly drained. At this rate, I might collapse—no, I would collapse.

“Svyeta?”

The world tilted, and then everything went dark.

I had no idea how long I was unconscious. When I came to, he was carrying me in his arms, striding through the gray streets of the industrial city.

“Are you awake?”

Before I could even answer, he dumped me onto the ground. My legs nearly gave way, but I managed to steady myself, trembling and limp.

“Are you sick?”

“My stomach… it’s because I’m hungry. I feel like I’ll die if I don’t eat.”

I glanced around frantically. Was there a restaurant near the station? Having experienced hunger before, I couldn’t bear the feeling — not just the hunger itself, but the fear of it, too.

Jürgen ignored me and stepped out onto the road to hail a taxi. When one stopped, he pushed me inside awkwardly.

“Take us to the main intersection, please.”

“Wait, Jurgen. The repair shop first—”

“The intersection, driver.”

“No, sir. Please take me to the Roza Repair Shop, near the Siyaniye Factory.”

The driver looked back at us, baffled by the conflicting orders.

“Jurgen, if I miss work one more time, I’ll really be fired.”

“Am I supposed to concern myself with your petty circumstances?”

“Fine. Then I’ll just get out here and take another taxi. Thank you, sir.”

As I reached for the door, Jürgen grabbed my arm tightly and pulled me back into the seat.

“To Siyaniye Repair Shop, driver.”

For once, he yielded.

The taxi turned toward the repair shop—

As the taxi sped toward the repair shop, I finally let out a breath of relief.

“Unbelievable. Catching a thief, only to find she’s my fiancée…”

“I wasn’t stealing. I just… had no other way out of your house!”