Galina Reznikov turned the faucet to as hot as it could go. She watched the kitchen sink fill up with steamy water, adding a dash of dish soap to see it explode with foam. Then she shoved her hands beneath the surface, curling her fingers in as she felt her skin burning. The pain made her suck in her breath, but she still didn't remove her hands from the basin. By the time she lifted her right to switch off the faucet before the sink overflowed, her pale skin was bright red.

"What are you doing, Ma?"

Galina jumped at the unexpected sound of her son's voice. She hadn't heard anyone come into the kitchen and stand behind her. She hadn't known she was being watched. She lifted her left hand out of the water like her right, and dried them on a tea towel, still appreciating the tingling of a dull burn.

"I'm just going to tackle these dishes," she replied, clearing her throat.

"Oh," Yuri said flatly.

She heard him take a few steps closer to her. Then the sound of something heavy being thumped onto the floor. Galina glanced briefly over her shoulder at the navy blue duffle that was stuffed so full that the zipper had barely sealed.

"All packed?" she asked tightly.

"Yeah," Yuri replied.

Galina picked up a glass from the counter and dropped it into the hot water. She set her hands back in again, using an old rag to wash out the inside of the glass and then the outside. It hurt her hands and she cut herself a little bit of slack when she turned the faucet back on to an icy cold. Its sprays were heavenly as she rinsed the suds away from the glass. Then she repeated the process.

"I really don't understand you," Yuri told her bluntly.

"Oh," Galina remarked, not sounding the least bit impressed.

"I don't understand why you aren't coming with us," Yuri elaborated. "We close down the store and go to Aunt Janina's cottage every July. All of a sudden you don't care to come?"

"Nineteen years, I feel like I've earned a quiet week to myself," Galina said stiffly.

"Are you sick or something? And you don't want to tell us?"

Yuri let out a grunt of frustration when his questions were ignored. He left his duffel bag on the floor where it lay and walked out of the kitchen, down the hall to the room he shared with his brothers. Galina sniffed defensively at the sound of his retreating footsteps, and she rubbed her hand in a circular motion around her stomach. Trying to soothe and unclench the knots it had been in for several weeks now.

She finished the dishes while she listened to her three sons rough housing in the next room. Maxsim and Vasily finished getting packed, and then Yuri came back into the kitchen to snatch up his duffel bag and carry it downstairs. They were going to load up the car to leave, and Galina promised to come outside to say goodbye once she finished the dishes. She still ignored their attempts to coax her into coming with them.

"I don't feel right about leaving you behind," Dmitri announced, coming around the corner once they were alone in the apartment. Galina impatiently slapped the counter at his arrival. Then turned around to face him.

"A change of scenery would help you," he insisted, shoving his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "And you need your family."

"That is the last thing I need," Galina replied dully. "Or at the very least, it's the last thing I deserve."

Dmitri shook his head. The sight of her face assured him that he was not overreacting in his concern for her. In all their twenty years of marriage, he had never seen her look like that. With dark circles under dead eyes. She hadn't had a proper sleep in weeks. She had no appetite. No motivation to dress up or do her makeup. She'd hardly spoken to any of them. Dmitri couldn't recall the last time he'd seen her give any of their sons the smallest flicker of affection. It was like she had completely shut down.

"You have to stop torturing yourself," Dmitri insisted. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"How can you say that?" Galina demanded. "How can you walk past his face on every fucking tree or post in the neighbourhood and say I did nothing wrong?"

"Because you couldn't have done anything differently," Dmitri replied. "We're not responsible for what happened, and getting ourselves or our own children killed now won't change anything."

Dmitri sighed. This wasn't the first time the mafia had used their business to store a body, and they both knew that it was very unlikely to be the last. Yet, the body had never belonged to someone Galina had known and cared about on a personal level before. She had never before had to witness the pleadings and hysteria of a mother begging for news of her son, while she kept the terrible truth buried in secrecy. Galina was going crazy with her guilt. She was full of shame and self-revulsion over a crime she didn't commit and for the loss of a boy she had wanted to protect.

"I can't enjoy my own sons when I know there is a woman nearby grieving for hers," Galina said numbly.

"I can't give her son back, but I could give her closure," Galina said sadly. "I couldn't imagine not even knowing."

"I agree, it's terrible," Dmitri agreed. "But you know you can't do that. People would question you having that knowledge, and you have your own children to protect. Luda knew who her son was running around with. She knew it was dangerous…"

"Then why are we dealing with them?" Galina asked hoarsely. "Are we just waiting for one of our own sons to wind up in a body bag?"

"Just get in the car and let's go to the lake," Dmitri pleaded to her. "There's nothing you can do to change what happened."

"I can't," Galina said, with such finality in her voice that the subject was dropped.

She washed the few remaining dishes and Dmitri grabbed a couple more items and went outside to the car. Galina joined them herself a few minutes later. Wearing her slippers from inside the house and tugging her white cardigan tightly around herself. Even the warmth of the day didn't dissipate the cold she constantly felt in her limbs and in her heart. She felt like a shell of the woman she had been. Like a part of her had died.

"I get to drive some too, right Ma?" Vasily stood up out of the backseat of the car where he was packed in with Maxsim and all of their belongings.

"Yes, but wait until you get out of the city and off the highway," Galina replied in a monotone voice. Vasily had just gotten his learner's permit a few months ago, but living in the city meant not having had many opportunities to practice yet.

"Okay, but I get to drive too," Maxsim interjected.

"You all can drive," Dmitri assured them, opening the truck of the car so he could shove a few more bags into it. "I don't care who drives so long as I don't have to."

Galina walked around to the driver's side and opened the door. She reached for Yuri's hand and kissed his palm. Then leaned down to kiss both of his cheeks.

"Ma?" he asked questioningly.

"Take care of everyone," she whispered to just him. Then she looked back at her other two sons. "Stick together. Look out for each other. Always. Okay?"

"I won't let Vasily get eaten by a Black Bear if that's what you mean," Maxsim replied, looking at her strangely.

"That's sort of what I mean," Galina shrugged, squeezing Yuri's hand one final time before straightening back up. "Do you promise?"

All three of them nodded at her, but they looked concerned. She wasn't acting like herself and hadn't in a very long time.

"Are you getting a divorce and don't know how to tell us?" Vasily asked casually, looking between both of his parents as Dmitri walked over to stand next to Galina.

"No," Dmitri answered simply, while Galina rolled her eyes.

"Cause you can tell us," Yuri assured them both with a smirk.

They were attempting to make light of the situation but struggling at being unable to process the significance of this moment. You are never prepared for the moment that changes your life and so much was going unsaid. Dmitri wiped a few beads of sweat from his brow and implored Galina one more time to get into the car with them. She refused. Even trying to appeal to her maternal sensibilities by asking her in front of her sons didn't work. She was entirely withdrawn.

Galina felt like her heart was dropping into her stomach as she stood on the curb and watched the car until it drove out of sight. It was a relief to see them go but a panicked part inside of her wished she'd allowed herself to be persuaded. To be with her family and move forward was all that she wanted and all she didn't deserve. Besides, it was naive to think they would ever truly be left alone when Ganya found their store and their service to be so convenient. They couldn't run and they couldn't hide.

"I need a drink," Galina muttered to herself.

She went back upstairs to her apartment and wasted no time in pouring herself a generous amount of the vodka from the bottle she kept stored under the kitchen sink. She swirled the clear liquid around in her glass and took a small sip. Sweetening it, or even adding ice just seemed like way too much effort for her right now. She trudged back through her home and got into her bed. The mattress was so thick and comfortable. Heavenly for her back and a peaceful escape from the world that always seemed like too much.

"Ilya," Galina spoke his name aloud.

She saw him in her dreams. Innocence and youth expressed in the frightful eyes of a young boy she had cared about and wanted to protect. He couldn't have possibly understood the ramifications of what he was getting involved in. Neither had Dmitri and neither had she. Like too many others, they had fallen prey to an establishment that would do away with you the moment that you stopped being useful or got asked to do something that went against everything you knew to be right. Galina had been stupid to think she could get Ilya out of that sort of business with his life intact. Nobody turned in their resignation to the Russian mafia.

"I'm so sorry," Galina whispered in the empty bedroom.

She tilted her head back and downed the rest of her vodka in a single gulp. Her drinking had been getting excessive in the past several weeks and she knew if she didn't make some changes soon, she was going to have a real problem on her hand. Even so, she couldn't resist leaning off of the bed to open the cabinet in her nightstand. Another bottle of vodka was hidden back in there and, with it, a copy of one of the photograph's Ilya's mother had hung up all around the city. Luda still hadn't given up hope about finding her baby boy, and Galina leaned the photograph up against a framed image of her own three sons. Then she poured her glass back up to the brim.

"I wish you'd go visit your mother for once instead of haunting me all the time," she said to the photograph. Another drink in, and her words were slurring.

"You should let her know where you are, because I can't," she hiccuped. "I know you're not going to stop bothering me until I do though, huh?"

"Where's my humanity?" she asked herself.

How many times had she stood idly by while Ganya and his henchman used her freezer as a walk-in morgue. She didn't know what she could do to stop it. Telling Ganya that inspectors came unannounced didn't make a difference. He was doing drop-offs in there more and more. If they showed up and she got caught, he had no doubt that Galina would go to prison before she gave up his had already demonstrated what he was capable of and Galina's sons were like sitting ducks. Ganya knew that she would never betray him.

Galina drowned her pain with the rest of the bottle and had no recollection of falling asleep or passing out. She woke up many hours later. The apartment was dark, with only the street lamps outside shining in the windows to give light. She sat up in bed, her head pounding and the room beginning to spin. She barely made it to the toilet before she started vomiting up the excessive alcohol she had consumed on an empty stomach.

"Oh my God," she panted, crouching down to lie directly on the cold tile of her bathroom floor. The coolness against her cheek made her feel a little bit better. She fell back asleep, for how long she didn't know. Awaking only when she heard the sound of the telephone ringing. It was likely Dmitri or one of the boys, calling to check in and let her know that they'd made it to their destination safely. Even though she would have loved to hear their voices, Galina did not summon up the strength to get up off the floor and answer. She knew if she spoke to them now, that she never would have the courage to do what she needed to do.

Ten minutes later, the telephone was ringing again, but Galina was already walking out the door when it happened. She had her distinguishable red hair tucked up under a plain hat and she kept her hands in her pocket and her head down as she walked. She didn't want to encounter anyone that she knew right now. She didn't want to have a conversation or be noticed. She walked until she found a payphone booth on an isolated street, and she slipped inside. Nervously, with a shaking hand, she brought the phone up to her ear and pushed the numbered buttons.

She almost hung up when she heard a curt voice come on the line from crime stoppers tips. She was trembling all over now. A tightening in her chest made it nearly impossible for her to even breathe. The voice on the line had to say hello three times before Galina even found the courage to speak.

"I think I have some information relating to the missing person case of Ilya Demidov," she said shakily, doing her best to disguise her voice.

"May I ask who is calling?" the agent asked.

"No," Galina replied. She knew that informants had the right to remain anonymous and that was the only way this was going to work. If Ganya or any of his men ever got wind that she was speaking to the police, she knew she had just signed her entire family's death warrants.

"Okay, well what is your information?" asked the operator.

"There is a Russian market on Astoria Blvd where Ilya often was seen," Galina shared, her heart racing. "There seems to be a lot of suspicious activity going on there but everyone is too afraid to say anything. She is often accepting suspicious deliveries in the middle of the night. You need to question Galina Reznikov and get a warrant to search that store."

"How do you know this?" the operator asked, but Galina hung up the phone and was out of the booth as quickly as she could.

She needed to get home and lock the doors while she waited for the inevitable. Ganya could never know she had made that phone call. Even if she didn't name him, even if the only person she was setting a trap for was herself, it wouldn't matter. She was putting a wedge in his operation, but more importantly, she was getting her family out of the way by condemning herself. Once the police searched their market, Ganya was unlikely to ever darken their door again. He wouldn't put himself at such risk.

Even more, once the truth of Ilya's death was uncovered, even if those who murdered him never faced reprecussions, Galina would be able to speak freely. She would be able to make amends in the only way she knew how now, which was in giving a mother closure about her son. Maybe then Galina would be able to sleep at night without Ilya's eyes haunting her dreams. Maybe she would be able to begin to forgive herself. And even if she couldn't, maybe the universe would be alright with her again. All she knew for certain, was that life as she knew it was about to change forever.