Hello lovelies! This is honestly one of my favorite parts of Katia's story...most of it is prewritten. I am honestly so thrilled to hear what y'all think. REVIEW!
Fast forward several years...I was in my twenties, several medical degrees under my belt, and I was ready to find my birth mother. Her letter was short, but so full of love, I felt like I was dying every minute I wasn't looking for her.
It read:
Дорогая Катя,
Вы можете задаться вопросом, если моя мама очень любила меня, почему она прогнать меня? Ответ прост, моя дорогая. Я хочу, чтобы ты жил.
Моя работа, моя жизнь, не является безопасным. Если моя организация обнаружила тебя, они убьют не только ты, но нас обоих. Это наш единственный вариант.
Никогда не сомневайтесь мою любовь к тебе, Катя. Посылка тебя это самая трудная вещь, которую я когда-либо делал, и я убийца. Я не знаю, каково это быть без тебя. С тех пор, как я знал, что ты скоро мое, я лелеял вас во всех отношениях. Теперь, когда я пишу это, ты прижалась к моей груди, всего несколько часов назад и полностью красиво. Вы будете в безопасности с вашей новой семьи, Кати, я обещаю вам это.
Меня зовут Наталья Романова, но ваши родители думают, что я Татьяна Иванова. Если вы хотите, вы можете прийти найти меня, когда вы будете готовы.
Любовь всегда,
Твоя мама
Наталия
Or,
Dear Katia,
You may wonder, if my mother really loved me, why would she send me away? The answer is simple, my darling. I want you to live.
My work, my life, isn't safe. If my organization discovered you, they'd kill not only you but both of us. It's our only option. Never doubt my love for you, Katia. Sending you away is the hardest thing I've ever done, and I'm an assassin. I don't know what it's like to be without you. Ever since I knew you would soon be mine, I have cherished you in every way. Now, as I write this, you're snuggled against my chest, only a few hours old and completely beautiful. You'll be safe with your new family, Katia, I promise you that.
My name is Natalia Romanova, but your parents think I am Tatiana Ivanov. If you want, you can come find me when you're ready.
Love always,
Your Mama
Natalia
I'd spent months trying to find out if the Natalia Romanova from the letter was the same Natasha Romanoff that saved the world a few months earlier. Comparing photographs certainly showed several prominent shared characteristics; the blood red hair, the emerald green eyes, high cheekbones, pouty lips, and nose that tilted up a little at the end.
If nothing else, she looked like she could be my mother...but she was so young! Was this really her?
Months of inner turmoil resulted in a one-way ticket to New York City and Fidel and Dwayne questioning my sanity.
I lifted my phone to my ear and put on my best French accent. It wasn't hard; I just had to mimic Camille. Some desk rep picked up the phone at Avengers Tower. "Avengers Tower, Stark Industries division, how may I help?"
"Uh, yes, I am...reporter. My newspaper ees wanting a story on your Madame Romanoff? Can I make appointment? For interview?"
"Sure! It appears Ms. Romanoff is free at 3:00 this afternoon. Are you free?" I shot up, nearly hitting my head on the roof of the taxi.
"Yes! Yes, I am the city now! Merci,"
Resisting the urge to let out a wild victory screech, I quickly dialled Camille. "Camille! Je vais rencontrer ma mère dans une heure! Que fais-je? Elle ne sait même pas qui je suis! Et si elle ne se souvenait pas de moi? Ça fait 23 ans."
"Okay, okay, Kat, calm down. You'll do just fine. If she really is your mother, I'm sure she'll remember you and love you very much."
"But what if she doesn't?" I bit my lip and ran a hand through my hair.
"Then," Camille sounded impatient, "you have two more here, on San Marie."
I let out a huge breath of relief. What would I do without Camille? "Thank you so much, Cam. I'll let you know how it goes."
"I'll be counting on it."
"Love you, Cam,"
"Love you, too!"
Changing in the back of a cab is an art that I quickly mastered. I ditched my flight sweats and tugged on black jeans, an olive green tank to rival my Caribbean complexion, and a black bomber jacket. Ruffling out my corkscrew curls, I topped them with a black bandanna, tied in the front. I peeked through the window. "Um, Stark Tower please?" My driver raised an eyebrow.
"You really a French reporter?"
"Of course, silly goose!" I lied in a faux accent, but the dude bought it.
The tower was taller than I originally anticipated. Taking a deep breath, I hauled my backpack over my shoulder as I took the several steps to the double glass doors. I pushed them open and entered the lobby in a miniature whirlwind. "3 o'clock with Mdme. Romanoff?"
"15th floor. Third office on the right."
"Thank you," I offered lamely, shuffling to the elevator.
The third office on the right was very obviously an interview room. I sat in the chair on the non-person-in-charge side, nervously tapping the letter between my hands. I paced a little, glanced at the clock, paced, glanced at the clock, paced, glanced at- "You seem nervous,"
"HOLY mother of Santa Maria, Madre de Jesus, holy virgin of the Lord!" My hand met my chest with a solid smack. I took a deep breath, knowing exactly who I was going to see when I turned around.
Even so, she took my breath away. She was dressed deceptively casually in athletic wear, a water bottle in hand. Her scarlet hair was perfectly in place, even with the slightest sheen of sweat on her brow. I stuck out my hand. "Hi, I'm Katia Versoni."
"Natasha," She remarked, obviously ready to get this over with.
"Um, I only actually have one question for you," I said, fumbling through my bag for the letter. Finding it, I brought the envelope to my lips, then handed it to her. "Do you recognize this?"
Natasha frowned, studying the letter. "This isn't a copy,"
"No, it's original,"
"This was, what, '93?"
"Uh, yeah."
"May 16th?"
"Yeah,"
"What did you say your name was again?"
"Katia Versoni," Natasha was struggling to keep her voice even.
"Are you my daughter?"
"That's what I'm trying to find out." I put a hand over her trembling one. She studied me helplessly.
"I want a DNA test,"
"If you can arrange that, I'm up for it." She pulled out a state of the art Stark phone and raised it to her ear.
"Banner? Can I call in a favor? Yeah, I need you to run some DNA."
CLIFFHANGER!
I am so (not) sorry to do this to y'all, but that'll make chapter 5 even better!
I want to hear from you! REVIEW!
Love,
~Blue
Guide:
Camille! Je vais rencontrer ma mère dans une heure! Que fais-je? Elle ne sait même pas qui je suis! Et si elle ne se souvenait pas de moi? Ça fait 23 ans. - Camille! I'll meet my mother in an hour! What do I do? She does not even know who I am! What if she does not remember me? It's been 23 years.