Page 153 of Mafia King’s Dangerous Vow

Anna Morozov.

She is closer now. More real. Her hair is twisted into a knot that is losing patience with itself. She wears jeans tucked into boots and a heavy coat zipped to her throat. One hand holds a canvas grocery bag, the other digs in her pocket, likely for her phone.

She looks like a mother arriving early because the weather is cold, because children come out hungry, because love is mostly made of small, relentless acts no one notices until they are taken away.

I hate her for half a second before I love her for it.

“There she is,” Aleksander says.

“I see her.”

The school door opens, and Kornelya comes out. A staff member stands behind her, half in the doorway, looking down at a clipboard. Beside Kornelya, holding a dark blue backpack in one hand and an oversized folder in the other, is a boy.

My son.

A child in a navy winter coat that’s not zipped all the way, with dark hair falling over his forehead and paint smudged near the side of his thumb.

Ivan looks down at the steps as he walks, careful with the folder. The corner has bent, and he keeps trying to flatten it with his palm. His hair is dark like his father’s, but when he glances up, his eyes are clear gray, ringed dark at the edge.

My eyes. In a face that doesn’t know me.

Anna sees him at the same time I do.

“Ivan?” she calls.

The boy turns, and his whole face changes.

“Mama!”

The word echoes inside me. It belongs to her. That’s the part I have to survive.

Anna is already moving, cutting across the sidewalk so fast her coat swings open. Kornelya doesn’t stop. That’s what gives her away. A normal authorized pickup would pause, smile, explain the confusion. Kornelya keeps guiding Ivan down the steps, her hand light on his shoulder, polite enough for the school, firm enough to direct him toward the curb.

Anna sees it too. “Hey! Take your hand off my son.”

Her voice carries across the street. A man leaving the café slows. The school staff member looks from Anna to the clipboard, trapped between the mother in front of her and the form that told her this was allowed.

Kornelya gives Anna a small, practiced smile. “Mrs. Morozov, I’m with Meridian. There must be a misunderstanding. I was asked to pick up Ivan today.”

“Who is Meridian?” Anna reaches the bottom of the steps. “Who asked you?”

Kornelya keeps smiling, but her fingers tighten slightly on Ivan’s shoulder. Anna plants herself between Kornelya and the curb. “I said take your hand off him.”

Ivan looks between them, his folder crushed now against his chest. “Mama?”

“Come here, baby.” Anna holds out her hand. “Right now.”

Ivan starts toward her.

Kornelya shifts, blocking him with her body. Not dramatically. Not enough for anyone watching to understand at first. Just a half step that puts herself between a mother and her child.

“The office has the authorization,” Kornelya says.

“I don’t care what the office has.” Anna’s voice rises, panic breaking through. “I’m his mother. He is coming with me.”

The school staff member comes down one step, clipboard pressed to her chest. “Mrs. Morozov? Is everything all right?”

“No,” Anna says sharply. “This woman is trying to take my son.”