Sara smiled her sunshine smile as she watched officer Ivan, her only friend, drinking companion, and her big brother, discuss contact information as he glared at Pan, Claire and the bouncers. Her smile widened when he reached for her hand.
She got up, the gown falling off a shoulder and feeling the draft. His gaze was stern and insistent, booking no arguments. But Ivan’s hand was warm as it took Sara’s and gave it a gentle squeeze.
“You just remember. You have family here now. Any trouble, and you let me know."
And so, in she came. Over she came.
The touch of Ivan’s skin was as fair as it seemed. And he smelled nice up close, way nicer than that expensive incense in Cafe Mio. Happily, Sara welcomed Ivan’s hug.
Then, Ivan was gone. Sara felt as if she’d been punched in the gut, as if a part of herself had been taken away. With Ivan, to a degree impossible even within her family, Sara had come to feel a sense of kinship and togetherness she hadn’t felt since Lea died.
But that person—her friend, her support—had left something behind. Sara sat on the couch, thinking of his kind smile, his strength, the strong bitter memory of Lea he stirred up.
“…!”
Sara ran after him.
She didn’t falter in her stride. If anything, she ran faster, raising her skirts to run, swinging her head back. For a beautiful moment, the night's weariness left her. She felt as if she could take on the whole of Moscow single-handed. She felt the way she had done as a teenager, with the whole world before her.
“Ivan, stay safe!” she shouted, “Thank you, I will!”
The Light protects...
Sara