Page 39 of Caged
Elena giggles and twirls holding her arms out.
I clap my hands and give her my best diva voice. “It looks beautiful on you, darling.”
She jumps up and down, making it shimmer in the bedroom lights.
Stopping, her little mouth makes an “o”. “I bet this would look better in the sun!”
“Let’s go see.” I follow her down the hall to the big plate glass windows in the living room.
She shrieks and prances in the bright Vegas afternoon pouring in.
Svetlana steps out of the kitchen with her fists digging into her hips. “You look like a whore. Just like your mother.” She speaks in Russian to Elena.
Elena wilts beneath her barrage. “Mne zhal'”
She’s apologizing?
That old bitch should be the one who says she’s sorry.
What the hell do I do? They don’t think I know the language.
“Why is she sad?” I point angrily at Elena who’s pulling my shirt over her head.
The woman crosses her arms over her thick bosom. “That is not lady-like. You shouldn’t be encouraging that…that…” She gestures briskly at the tearful little girl. “Style.” She finishes with a snort.
I’m tempted to kill her.
She’s been alone with this sweet child for how long?
Does Nikolai know how Svetlana is treating Elena? He seems to act like his daughter is special to him, so why is he letting this happen?
Maybe he doesn’t know.
I hate this. There’s a need inside of me to protect Elena from this person. It’s in my nature. It’s how I treat my brother, I’ve spent my life doing just that.
But, I can’t rock the boat.
“Fine. Don’t you have some dinner to cook?” Holding out my hand for the tearful kid, we head upstairs to the playroom.
“I don’t feel much like toys. I’m gonna read.” Elena wipes her teary cheek and picks up one of her books.
“I get it.” I squat down next to her. “But, remember, the only person that really knows what makes you happy—” I point at her chest. “—is you. No one else. You should be able to wear clothes that bring a smile to your face. I think Svetlana is just mad because she knows she couldn’t wear that shirt.” I give her a big smile, trying to encourage her to do the same.
She chews on her lip, and nods.
“Have you told your dad what she says to you?” I try to talk low.
The old woman is sneaky for being heavyset.
Elena shrugs. “He’s busy. It’s okay. I won’t dress like that around her.” Fresh tears tremble in the edge of her eyes. “Maybe you shouldn’t either, so Svetlana doesn’t get mad at you.”
I want to scream and throw things.
Elena reminds me of myself.
Teetering on the edge of broken. No one saw just how hard I was struggling to keep me and my brother safe.
It makes me want to wrap her up.