Prologue
**************** 1967 ******************
Sitting at the kitchen table reading, Irina felt the cold wind waft in from outside as her mother entered the house. She could hear the anxiety in her hurried steps and knew all too well what that meant . They would be moving soon.
Within the sixteen years that Irina had been alive, her and her mother had moved too many times to count and the amount of time in which they would stay in one place was steadily getting shorter and shorter. They had stayed at their current place of residence for barely 6 months and while Irina was used to the constant moving she was growing increasingly tired of it.
ÒPack your bags Irina, we leave tonight.Ó her mother stated as though this was the most normal thing in the world.
ÒIÕm not leavingÓ Irina replied, a tinge of anger evident in her voice.
ÒI know this isnÕt easy for you, it isnÕt easy for me either, and if I had a choices in the matter we would stay. But weÕve been through this a million times, and you know I only do this for our own safety.Ó
ÒNo, Mom, I donÕt know. I donÕt know anything! and this time IÕm not leaving! IÕm not leaving until you give me some answers!Ó Irina yelled
ÒYou know I canÕt do that. Your going to have to be patient, IÕll explain everything to you when your older, but now is not the timeÓ
ÒYou always say that. Ever since I was a little girl youÕve always told me to patient, told me that you would reveal the truth once I was older. Well, guess what? I am older, IÕm sixteen, I can handle this big mysterious truth of yours.Ó
ÒIrina, please......donÕt make this any more difficult then it has to be. You going to have to be patient, there are some things that I just canÕt tell you and your going to have to accept that. Truth takes times, my dear.Ó
ÒWell IÕm sick of waiting for it! and IÕm sick of always leaving. If you want to leave tonight, fine, but IÕm not going with youÓ
ÒIrina, you canÕt be serious. IÕm not leaving you behind. Stop being so stubborn.Ó
ÒWell then, It looks like you have a choice. You can either stay here with me or you can keep running. But IÕm not going to keep packing up at the last minute and leaving in a hurry, not without know why.Ó Irina spoke , her seriousness evident in her voice, her gaze refusing to falter.
Her mother stood in awe of her daughterÕs refusal. Deep inside she had always known that she would have to have secrets from her daughter, knew one day she would demand answers that could not be given, and she hated herself for having to put her own daughter through this, hated the life she had to lead, and the knowledge she had to keep secret.
ÒWe can stay another week,Ó IrinaÕs mother conceded Òand after that I promise I will try to find us a more permanent place to live, but we canÕt stay here much longer.Ó
Irina nodded in consent, it was a small victory, but it was something. Her gaze fell on her mother who smiled softy all the while nervously playing with the charm on her necklace.
The necklace with itÕs simple charm had always intrigued Irina, her mother always wore it, although she normally kept it somewhat concealed under her shirt whenever possible. It was a sort of good luck charm , she guessed, and her mother would often toy with it whenever she was anxious, as though it would offer her some sort of answer, or perhaps it was the reason for the anxiety. The charm itself was a symbol sheÕd seen before imprinted on leather bound books in her motherÕs study, and tattooed on the hand of a man who had come to visit her mother a couple times when she was younger. A simple symbol, perhaps nothing more, but Irina had the feeling that it held some sort of power, and that perhaps it had something to do with why her and her mother were always running.
*****************************
IrinaÕs mother kept her word and they did not leave that night, and Irina hoped that somehow they would be able to stay longer at their next destination, however she had a bad feeling that that was never going to happen.
The next night a loud crash woke Irina, she sat up straight in bed listening intently to the sounds coming from the downstairs, clearly indicating some sort of struggle. Silently she crept out of bed and cracked her door open. Her room was near the stairs and from her room she could just barely see into the kitchen. There she saw a man dressed in dark clothes in the middle of an intense fight with her mother. In an attempt to get a better view of the situation, Irina carefully tiptoed out of her room and down the hall a bit till she was sitting in the shadows right over the staircase.
ÒIf you would just come quietly, Ms. Derevko, I think you would find that that would make things so much easier for the both of us. After all, we just want to ask you a few questions. Your cooperation would be greatly rewardedÓ said the intruder, his demeanor superficially calm.
ÒGo to hell!Ó IrinaÕs mother spat in response, her hand reaching for a knife on the counter.
ÒNow, now... LetÕs not become violent. IÕd hate to have to hurt you or that pretty little daughter of yoursÓ
There was a flicker of light as the knife flew across the room finding itÕs home in the manÕs shoulder. He fell back a few steps taken aback by the force of the blow, then he regained his balance, drew his gun, and to IrinaÕs horror, fired three shots. His aim was good, the bullets piercing her motherÕs heart, blood quickly staining her white nightgown before she collapsed to the ground, dead.
Irina felt herself fill with rage, she wanted to leap down the stairs and strangle the man who had just stolen her motherÕs life, but she was completely frozen in fear at the top of the stairs, well hidden in the safety of the darkness.
Had this all been her fault she wondered, after all they had stayed longer because of her. If only they had left the night before. Filled with anger and guilt, Irina memorized the face of the man who had killed her mother, knowing that one day she would have her justice, that one day she would have her revenge.
**************** 1967 ******************
Sitting at the kitchen table reading, Irina felt the cold wind waft in from outside as her mother entered the house. She could hear the anxiety in her hurried steps and knew all too well what that meant . They would be moving soon.
Within the sixteen years that Irina had been alive, her and her mother had moved too many times to count and the amount of time in which they would stay in one place was steadily getting shorter and shorter. They had stayed at their current place of residence for barely 6 months and while Irina was used to the constant moving she was growing increasingly tired of it.
ÒPack your bags Irina, we leave tonight.Ó her mother stated as though this was the most normal thing in the world.
ÒIÕm not leavingÓ Irina replied, a tinge of anger evident in her voice.
ÒI know this isnÕt easy for you, it isnÕt easy for me either, and if I had a choices in the matter we would stay. But weÕve been through this a million times, and you know I only do this for our own safety.Ó
ÒNo, Mom, I donÕt know. I donÕt know anything! and this time IÕm not leaving! IÕm not leaving until you give me some answers!Ó Irina yelled
ÒYou know I canÕt do that. Your going to have to be patient, IÕll explain everything to you when your older, but now is not the timeÓ
ÒYou always say that. Ever since I was a little girl youÕve always told me to patient, told me that you would reveal the truth once I was older. Well, guess what? I am older, IÕm sixteen, I can handle this big mysterious truth of yours.Ó
ÒIrina, please......donÕt make this any more difficult then it has to be. You going to have to be patient, there are some things that I just canÕt tell you and your going to have to accept that. Truth takes times, my dear.Ó
ÒWell IÕm sick of waiting for it! and IÕm sick of always leaving. If you want to leave tonight, fine, but IÕm not going with youÓ
ÒIrina, you canÕt be serious. IÕm not leaving you behind. Stop being so stubborn.Ó
ÒWell then, It looks like you have a choice. You can either stay here with me or you can keep running. But IÕm not going to keep packing up at the last minute and leaving in a hurry, not without know why.Ó Irina spoke , her seriousness evident in her voice, her gaze refusing to falter.
Her mother stood in awe of her daughterÕs refusal. Deep inside she had always known that she would have to have secrets from her daughter, knew one day she would demand answers that could not be given, and she hated herself for having to put her own daughter through this, hated the life she had to lead, and the knowledge she had to keep secret.
ÒWe can stay another week,Ó IrinaÕs mother conceded Òand after that I promise I will try to find us a more permanent place to live, but we canÕt stay here much longer.Ó
Irina nodded in consent, it was a small victory, but it was something. Her gaze fell on her mother who smiled softy all the while nervously playing with the charm on her necklace.
The necklace with itÕs simple charm had always intrigued Irina, her mother always wore it, although she normally kept it somewhat concealed under her shirt whenever possible. It was a sort of good luck charm , she guessed, and her mother would often toy with it whenever she was anxious, as though it would offer her some sort of answer, or perhaps it was the reason for the anxiety. The charm itself was a symbol sheÕd seen before imprinted on leather bound books in her motherÕs study, and tattooed on the hand of a man who had come to visit her mother a couple times when she was younger. A simple symbol, perhaps nothing more, but Irina had the feeling that it held some sort of power, and that perhaps it had something to do with why her and her mother were always running.
*****************************
IrinaÕs mother kept her word and they did not leave that night, and Irina hoped that somehow they would be able to stay longer at their next destination, however she had a bad feeling that that was never going to happen.
The next night a loud crash woke Irina, she sat up straight in bed listening intently to the sounds coming from the downstairs, clearly indicating some sort of struggle. Silently she crept out of bed and cracked her door open. Her room was near the stairs and from her room she could just barely see into the kitchen. There she saw a man dressed in dark clothes in the middle of an intense fight with her mother. In an attempt to get a better view of the situation, Irina carefully tiptoed out of her room and down the hall a bit till she was sitting in the shadows right over the staircase.
ÒIf you would just come quietly, Ms. Derevko, I think you would find that that would make things so much easier for the both of us. After all, we just want to ask you a few questions. Your cooperation would be greatly rewardedÓ said the intruder, his demeanor superficially calm.
ÒGo to hell!Ó IrinaÕs mother spat in response, her hand reaching for a knife on the counter.
ÒNow, now... LetÕs not become violent. IÕd hate to have to hurt you or that pretty little daughter of yoursÓ
There was a flicker of light as the knife flew across the room finding itÕs home in the manÕs shoulder. He fell back a few steps taken aback by the force of the blow, then he regained his balance, drew his gun, and to IrinaÕs horror, fired three shots. His aim was good, the bullets piercing her motherÕs heart, blood quickly staining her white nightgown before she collapsed to the ground, dead.
Irina felt herself fill with rage, she wanted to leap down the stairs and strangle the man who had just stolen her motherÕs life, but she was completely frozen in fear at the top of the stairs, well hidden in the safety of the darkness.
Had this all been her fault she wondered, after all they had stayed longer because of her. If only they had left the night before. Filled with anger and guilt, Irina memorized the face of the man who had killed her mother, knowing that one day she would have her justice, that one day she would have her revenge.
