{IVANNA}
I couldn't stop crying.
Five of us were gathered in the foyer, surrounded by three suitcases.
Sergio was on his feet, propped up by a cane, with Lucia and Maksim nearby. Karlen and I stood off to the side, close to the luggage, and his arms were wrapped around me as I sobbed on his probably very expensive shirt. There was nothing left to be said. I had pushed for this outcome, hoped it would come to pass, but it hurt.
Karlen was the most composed out of all of us, which was understandable. He had decided to leave, after all. Sergio gave him a choice, and Karlen had grabbed the opportunity eagerly.
Now he would start a new chapter in his life as a whole different person. When he walked out this door, he was no longer the Sakharov heir. Not a Sakharov at all.
And I would never see him again.
