Last Violent Call (Secret Shanghai, #3.5)(11)
Roma turned back to Mila. “So you mean to say they experimented on you?”
“It was nothing horrific,” Mila replied carefully. “We took medication. They measured our vitals every day. The facility said they were only interested in health-care advancements.”
On the sofa, Juliette had started chewing on her bottom lip, her fingers tapping on her cup. If her head had gone to the same place as Roma’s, they were both thinking about the last time they had heard news about Lourens: when Celia had visited and warned that Rosalind, Juliette’s cousin and Celia’s sister, wasn’t the same anymore, that she had gotten sick and Lourens had saved her with some sort of advanced science before disappearing off the face of the earth. That had to have been before he went to Vladivostok.
“We realized something was wrong the first time we heard the two arguing. Mr. Pyotr and Lourens, that is. They hadn’t closed the door to the office, and Dasha waved us over to listen. The new round of experimentation wasn’t ready yet, but the previous day Mr. Pyotr had injected us anyway. Lourens wasn’t happy.”
A light prickle of cold sweat moved down Roma’s neck. Yulun reached for Mila’s hand.
“We shook it off. Believed everything was fine. Our lives in that facility were wonderfully content, and for a group of girls with nothing else, no one wanted it ruined.” Mila sighed. “But that did not last long. I started to lose long swaths of time. I would look out the window and not remember when it had turned to evening. I would sit inside a room and struggle to recall when I had walked in. The undeniable moment came when I woke up one night and found Dasha missing from her bed. I waited for hours before she returned to the facility, and she claimed she hadn’t gone anywhere. Even though I watched her come in through the front entrance.”
“They didn’t lock you in or anything, then,” Juliette clarified. “You were free to come and go as you pleased?”
“Of course.” Mila’s brow scrunched, as if she couldn’t possibly imagine a scenario where they held her in captivity. “That was what made it so easy to flee eventually. I kept asking about Dasha and what was wrong with her. Mr. Pyotr kept insisting it was a measly side effect that would go away soon. It would have been easy to take his word for it if Lourens hadn’t left that next week. He tried to tell me something at the door, but Mr. Pyotr forced him to go before he could get a word out. Lourens never came back. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s in hiding from the board now too.”
For a moment, Mila fell into silence, smoothing her hair down by rapidly pulling at the strands beside her face. Had Lourens seen the resemblance too when she did that? Had he felt the guilt creep in, remembering Alisa darting in and out of the labs whenever she was on the search for her big brother?
“The board started coming more often to talk behind closed doors. We got more adamant. We demanded answers. And one night, when the five of us crowded Mr. Pyotr to make a ruckus, he shouted for us to stop, and we did. It felt like some invisible hand was holding me still, like he could say anything in that moment and I would have to follow instruction.”
Goddammit, Lourens, Roma thought. Always inventing new science, for better or for worse.
“How can that be allowed?” Mila asked, and her voice cracked. “How could I stay there knowing that at any moment he could bid me to do whatever he wanted? We all fled on the first ship out, separating once we got to Shanghai. Valentina and Viktoria stayed in the city. Dasha and Lilya came inland with me, then said goodbye and proceeded farther when I wanted to stay in the quieter parts.”
“How long ago was that?” Juliette asked quietly. Her eyes lifted, seeking Roma, communicating what she was thinking.
“Almost three years ago,” Yulun answered on Mila’s behalf. “December 1928.”
“Yulun’s mother owned the teahouse where I started working.” The ghost of a smile appeared on Mila’s lips. “I would have struggled greatly had I not met him that first day there.”
Which meant she had been left in peace for so long. She had been settled for almost as much time as Roma and Juliette had been leading their new life too. When Juliette broke eye contact, visible pain flitted across her expression in empathy. Roma felt the same pang twist his stomach.
“So why now?” he asked. “Why not come after you when you escaped?”
Mila gave a weak shrug.
“My speculations don’t make any sense either. All I know is that, about a month ago, a letter showed up for me in Mr. Pyotr’s handwriting. He said he wanted to help me, and there would be consequences if I didn’t accept.”
“I burned it, by the way,” Yulun cut in. “Threw it right in the fire.”
Mila cast him an amused look. It faded quickly as she continued her story. “He had found me, so it wasn’t safe anymore if he could show up at any moment. We fled into the next town over. Except another letter showed up. We fled again.”
“Let me guess,” Juliette said. “The letters kept showing up.”
Mila reached into her skirt pocket. “I kept this last one on me. It is probably the most concerning of them all.”
Roma leaned in, grimacing when he took the slip of paper to read the words.
They are coming.
“Did this come postmarked?” he asked. “Any clue as to where it might have originated from?”