Ivan made a short explanation, just a few words. It didn’t need much. Sara wasn’t ready, and now it was upon her… Sara blinked. She started to tremble. She breathed deeply to control her panic response.
Sara turned and walked away, leaving Ivan gazing after her, wide-eyed.
“I will do everything I can,” the doctor said. “The prognosis isn’t good. They brought her into the hospital after she bled a long time..."
Sara nodded.
“Thank you,” she said. The beds of the ICU were full. There were so many injured people from big underground fight that some of the other hospital facilities had been coopted by the ER, too.
Only one bed concerned Sara. She sat down at the side of her sister’s cot and held her hand. Lea was very pale against the old, poor quality bedding. She did not stir.
Sara wiped her eyes.
The door opened. Father came in. He shut the door behind her and looked down at her.
“I don’t know what to do now,” she said.
“Then we’ll think of something,” he replied.
“The silly brave girl,” she said. “She was never going to die in bed, was she? In bed, being cared for, where she belonged.”
“I don’t think that’s where she actually belonged, do you?” said father. He plonked a bottle of vodka and two small glasses on the chair next to Sara, opened the bottle and poured shots.
He handed one to her and took the other himself.
“I’m no good at this,” she said.
“At drinking?” he asked. “Bloody hell, Sara, the other night that certainly wasn’t true.”
“At saying goodbye,” she said.
“Ah,” he nodded. He raised his glass.
“To the best of us, who leave us too early,” he said, “and to the worst, who outstay their welcome.”
“To my beloved sister."
Father was exhausted and empty inside, too but he stayed with Sara until she was calmer.
Nox and Ivan exchanged looks—they came to her, moving together through the garden path.
Sara jumped.
“What? Yes,” she said, blinking.
“Yes, all right,” said Sara, shaking the ash from her cigarette, trying to regain her wits, incapacitated by shock. “I... I’ve lost my sister to the fighting pits last year. But… but this is awkward for you. Sorry.”
Nox looked uncomfortable. A shiny butterfly shuffled and fluttered on its nearby perch.
Sara looked sad, but didn’t reply. Slowly, carefully, she exhaled another puff of smoke.
“I know,” said Sara.
She nodded across at Ivan, who was genuinely puzzled. Concerned.
“I know,” she repeated, her eyes hooded, a wicked smile on her face.
Her grin broadened.
“You don’t like to smoke or drink, do you? You can just take pretend puffs and beer with me.” Sara said to Nox, as though this was news and had just come up in the conversation.
“Out of curiosity, Ivan how long ago has this fighting pit… the Almaz... been going on—" She stopped herself.
“Forget it,” she said, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “It isn’t my business, and it was inappropriate of me to ask.”
Ivan took a step towards her. She held up and hand and turned away.
“Don’t,” she said. “Just come down to the bar, please. I’ll wait for you there. I came out because I was already struggling to cope with the volume inside… but it’ll be quieter at this hour."
She paused.
“Actually, I’m not sure you need more drinks. But I think I need you both to be there.”
Sara