I know, I know. You have every reason to hate me. School just got out of hand, I changed jobs, two of my sisters graduated, and then writing this chapter gave me a hard time. I apologize profusely, and offer you this chapter.


Time was passing too slowly and too quickly at the same time. A distant part of Anastasia's mind wondered how that could be, but the larger part was more focused on her family, and the knot in her stomach that grew tighter with each passing second. The entire thing was eerily reminiscent of the night they departed St. Petersburg.

She and Maria were so intertwined that she could hardly tell where she ended and her sister started. It seemed as though the more time passed, the more they became connected. She could feel a large wet spot on her shoulder where her Maria's tears had soaked through her blouse. Anastasia herself hadn't cried yet, though it really was only a matter of time.

It seemed cruel, even for the Bolsheviks, for them to split up their family. Even crueler was the fact that none of them knew where they were being sent to, or if they would ever see each other again. Just thinking about that had Anastasia squeezing her sister's hand so hard she flinched. Maria, to her credit, didn't protest. Instead she only squeezed Anastasia's hand back and shifted a bit closer to her.

Their mother, their proud, dignified Mama, had climbed into Alexei's bed with him at the beginning of the night. Alexei was practically in her lap, clinging to her like a much younger child. Earlier he had been practically whimpering, and Anastasia had had to pretend it was from the pain to keep from crying as well.

Somewhere within the house a clock chimed three o'clock in the morning. A deep exhaustion had taken root in all of them, but Anastasia still felt too on edge to even think about closing her eyes. They only had one more hour with each other, and she feared that if she fell asleep no one would wake her and she would awaken the next morning to find half of her family gone without a clue as to where they were taken. Beside her, Maria stiffened. Her breaths began to come in quick little gasps as she cried harder, and when Tatiana reached over to touch her shoulder a sob burst from her lips. The sound just about ripped Anastasia's heart out.

She felt sure it would be far less painful for all of them to have their hearts actually ripped out. The uncertainty and anxiety alone were enough to paralyze her. The thought of having to say goodbye to her closest sister had her clinging even harder to her.

She still wasn't sure why Tatiana couldn't have gone with their parents. Not that she wouldn't miss her terribly as well, but Tatiana would be able to help their mother more, and Olga was skilled enough to nurse Alexei on her own. She loved Maria dearly, but the months of captivity had weakened her sister's spirit, and she worried that the separation might change her beloved Mashka forever. Tatiana was stronger. Tatiana should be the one to accompany her parents.

One look at Olga's face made her reconsider. Her oldest sister looked much older than she should, just barely a shadow of the girl she had been before this whole ordeal had started. If Tatiana went with their parents, if Olga was in the position she herself was in now, she knew it would break her. As much as she hated this plan, she knew she and Maria had a chance of surviving it. She could be selfless for Olga.

Anastasia had hoped that thought would help her be strengthen her resolve, but she still felt horribly anxious about being separated from almost half of her family. She couldn't understand why this new government insisted on being so cryptic with their actions. She had a feeling that those in charge knew exactly where her parents and sister were going, but didn't want to tell anyone lest that information get out to the public.

Not that they had very many people left to tell. Most of the servants that had followed them into captivity had been dismissed already. Some of them had been with her family since before she could remember. Anastasia had to wonder what had become of them, stranded so far from home with little money and almost no way to get back.

It wasn't fair. None of this was fair. Anastasia was old enough now to understand that life wasn't always going to be fair, but she couldn't understand what, exactly, her family had done to warrant this treatment. Had the tsars of the past really treated the Russian citizens so poorly? Had her family behaved so badly in captivity that they deserved to be split apart?

Outside, they heard the gate open and a truck pull in, its motor running loudly. Anastasia looked up sharply and locked eyes with Olga, who seemed to be paralyzed with anxiety. From Alexei's bed came another muffled gasp. Her father merely straightened his spine and squared his shoulders. As much as she wished her Papa would show more emotion, in that moment she was proud to call herself his daughter. She knew he wouldn't allow himself to be escorted away looking anything less than imperial, and even in his threadbare clothes there was no mistaking him for anything except a king.

The knock they had been dreading came. A moment later Dmitry poked his head in, looking apologetic.

"They're waiting," he murmured before retreating.

Alexei began to cry in earnest as his parents kissed and hugged him. The sound struck Anastasia down to her soul and made her want to cry herself. She could hear their mother telling him to be good and follow Dr. Botkin's orders so they could follow after them soon, and Alexei could only cling to her hand in response. Anastasia tried not to look at her mother's face as she pulled herself away and out of the room. When Maria stood to kiss Alexei goodbye, Anastasia stood too.

She felt strangely detached from her body as she followed her family down the stairs and out into the yard. It was if she was merely floating along beside her body and watching it go through all the motions. It was still dark out, and she could barely see the truck in the light from the house. There were guards loading luggage into the back, and another behind the wheel tapping his thumbs impatiently. She realized her mother had spoken to her, and sheepishly apologized.

"You be a good girly for me," she repeated as she hugged Anastasia close, her voice barely wavering. "Listen to your sisters and keep each other safe. We'll be together soon." Anastasia nodded against her mother's shoulder. Then her mother pulled away to hug the Big Pair goodbye, and her father replaced her.

"God be with you, Papa," she managed to squeak out before launching herself at him.

"And with you, ma Nastya," he murmured into her hair. "I will miss you dearly until we are all together again." Anastasia felt her eyes begin to water, and she squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to keep her tears in. Instead she focused on how sturdy her father was, and prayed with everything she had in her that he would be safe.

And then it was her turn to say goodbye to Maria. At the sight of her sister's face, her eyes and nose red and her cheeks splotchy from crying, Anastasia felt her own tears finally fall. She and Maria clung to each other once more. Over her sister's shoulder she saw her father pull Dmitry to the side and begin to speak to him, but she was too tired and too distraught to wonder what they could possibly be discussing.

"I'm frightened," Maria breathed into her ear. "I don't want to leave you behind."

"I'll come with you," she said. "I can have my things packed in just a minute." She moved as if to pull away and dash back inside the house, intent on throwing some clothes in her own suitcase and dragging it back out to the truck, but Maria locked her arms even tighter around her.

"No," she said, her voice firmer than it had been in days. "As much as I wish you could come, you're needed here. You've got to stay with Alexei."

"But you need me, too," she moaned. Maria shook her head.

"Alexei needs you more." There was nothing left for them to say, so Anastasia simply held Maria until the order came for them to get in the truck. Her mother and father did so with only a few more words and touches to their children, but Maria hesitated.

"It's time, Mashka," Tatiana coaxed, taking one of Maria's hands. "Go, before the guards get upset."

Maria nodded and began trying to untangle herself from Anastasia's arms. Anastasia was reluctant to let her sister go, but did so because she better than to make someone pry them apart. The guards remaining with them at the house barked at them to return inside, and they did so with many backwards glances. Beside her, Dmitry wrapped his arm around her shoulder and guided her back into the front entrance as the truck pulled out of the gates, taking her parents and her sister away.