"Mom," Stas looked at Olga in confusion. "What happened to you?"
Stanislav flinched, as if he wanted to approach his mother, but didn't dare. He studied her worriedly, noticing new changes.
"Why do you look like…" He stopped mid-sentence, as if afraid to say aloud the word that was on the tip of his tongue.
Father dragged me to the far corner of the room, away from the others. He kept holding me, his arms wrapped around me from behind. I tried to catch my breath and understand at least a little of what was happening, but the blood kept pounding in my temples, urging me to rush at Vladimir. However, as soon as I found the prey with my eyes, something inside me snapped.
"Go ahead, son," Olga nodded to Nikita, and he, holding her by the waist, slowly led the woman closer to Stanislav. "Say it."
Vladimir I knew was gone, replaced by someone else. He was no longer the proud man confident in his mind and greatness, for whom everything happening was just an exciting game. Nor was he the coward who recently sought shelter from fangs, hiding behind his own children. No. A new Vladimir appeared, his face twisted with shame and pain as soon as the doctor looked at the woman he loved.
"You look like a human."
Stas's mother smiled, and that smile illuminated her face with relief, as if the secret had been too heavy and she could no longer carry it alone. At that moment, Olga's foot slipped on the scattered remains of food on the floor. Nik was too weak to keep his balance; his hand slipped off Olga's waist, and the woman would have inevitably fallen if Maxim hadn't arrived in time. Unlike the others, he didn't look at the mother with surprise, but rather the opposite. While Max helped Olga sit down on a chair, every movement of his was full of gentleness and care, as if she might crumble from a careless touch.
"That can't be," Viola said, looking at her mother as if she had seen a ghost. "I managed to sneak in and see Father's laboratory beyond the mirror. I saw pictures where you…" Her voice broke, "you…"
Olga looked at her daughter with regret and kept smiling as if it were the only medicine that could soothe another person's pain. She raised her hand and beckoned Viola to come closer, in whose eyes uninvited tears had frozen.
Violetta didn't hesitate. Despite the wounds that covered her body — caused by me — she quickly got up and hurried to her mother, but Max intercepted her when she was a meter away from Olga.
"No," he said sharply. "Don't come any closer."
Viola looked at him almost crazed, and the first tear slid down her cheek.
"Let me go," she tried to pull her hands out of his tight fingers, but Max held her.
"I said no. It's too dangerous."
"Are you crazy?" Viola began hitting Max's fingers with an open palm. And I was sure that if she really wanted to hurt her brother, she would have hit differently. I had already felt on my own skin how bloodthirsty Viola could be. Especially if there was a knife nearby.
Nik leaned against the wall, trying not to attract attention. He didn't look at any of us, as if feeling like a stranger in the room.
"She's our mother!" she continued, but Max pushed her away.
I couldn't believe I was seeing Nikita again. And not just anywhere, but under the roof of the Smirnovs' house. I looked at Stas, trying to understand if he knew about this, but Stanislav was too shocked by the appearance of his own mother. It seemed that Nik didn't exist for him, and that was easy to understand. After all, it wasn't his heart that was broken, but his life that had been turned upside down by Karimov.
I should have felt anger toward him. Should have wanted to break free from my father's strong grip and shake Nik hard, demanding explanations and justice for everything he had done. Present a bill for all that he might have taken from me. But I couldn't find the strength. I looked at the pale shadow of a man whom, albeit by deception, I had loved. The thought of what was hidden under those bandages scared me. Had I really seen him in my nightmare, and was everything I saw really happening to him? After all he'd done, I liked to imagine giving Nik a good thrashing, but could I really hurt him — did I have the strength for that?
"That's why, if you love her — don't you dare come closer."
"What nonsense are you talking?" Viola rushed forward again, and this time Maxim didn't stop her.
Viola hugged her mother with obvious delight and buried her face in the unruly strands.
"I'm so glad you're alive," she sighed so deeply that even I could hear it. "Mommy."
She rubbed her face against Olga's hair and breathed in again. Her eyes closed in pleasure, and for a moment the scene of a daughter reuniting with her mother touched me. But then something happened that I did not expect at all.
Expressive fangs appeared from beneath Violetta's painted lips. Her mouth opened wider and wider, and I realized with horror what Viola was planning to do. Max arrived just in time, when the tip of the fang touched the skin on Olga's neck. It took effort for the twin to pull his sister away from their mother. Wild, intoxicated by the scent, Viola reached for Olga and struggled, while Max tried to restore his sister's reason with short words.
"Blood," Diana said, pressing her slender fingers to her nose, trying to mask the smell. "Why? Why does she smell like that?"
"I smell it too," Stas said, unlike Di, covering his face with his sleeve.
"Viola still managed to wound her," Max said, sniffing and swallowing hard as he kept holding Violetta. "Konstantin, could you help mother stand up and take her away while we sort this out?"
Father deliberately loosened his grip slowly, checking if I had calmed down.
"I'm fine."
Dad hesitated for a moment, promised to return soon, helped Olga up, and led her out of the room. No one else moved; everyone silently watched the door close behind Olga and Kostya.
"So," I began, addressing Vladimir, who looked worse than everyone else in the room, "you managed to make a human out of your wife?"
The doctor leaned his back against the wall, his fingers gripping the window frame tensely, as if that was the only way he could freeze in place. His eyes were bloodshot, like Nikita's once was at school. Noticing this detail made it clear how badly the thirst affected him, unlike the children. Though Viola had given in to impulse, her eyes remained just as human as before.
"I managed, and not only her. Though only partially," Vladimir answered gloomily, barely moving his lips. "But the price was too high. So I can't promise the same to any of you."
"Mom is going to die?" Stas asked ahead, and after a moment, the doctor nodded.
"Like all humans. Sooner or later."
"But in her case, sooner rather than later," Maxim added, and everyone turned to look at him.
He sat on the floor, holding his twin sister in his arms, slowly running his hand over Viola's golden hair as she leaned against his shoulder. Her shoulders shook with every breath, and it seemed that in his arms she had turned into a small, miserable girl seeking comfort from her older brother after scraping her knee.
"Olga's limits are less than we'd like."
"You helped him," Stas clenched his fists and took a step toward his brother, "do this to her?"
Max shrugged his tear-free shoulder.
"What would you have done if Mom asked?"
Stanislav laughed bitterly, not believing what he had heard.
"I wouldn't have helped if I knew her life was at stake."
"Son," Vladimir called unusually softly, "she wanted to become human again. Wanted to have a real family."
"So were we just backups? A trial run? Played with and then she can get another, the right one? Lessons learned!" With each new word, Stas's voice grew louder, and by the end, he was laughing hysterically.
I wanted to intervene. To take Stanislav away before words came out of his mouth that Smirnov would definitely regret later, but someone touched my shoulder, and for a second I feared being grabbed again. I turned around. As soon as I met Mom's gaze, the bad premonition receded.
"Let's go," she said quietly, "this is family business."
I understood that Maria was right and that we should leave, but inside, there were too many questions left unanswered. Refusing Vladimir's promise to explain everything was a price I couldn't pay, so I shook my head, not agreeing to follow Maria. But Mom insisted:
"I can explain it to you myself. Let's go," she pulled me by the forearm, and this time I didn't resist and obediently followed her to the exit. Only after stepping outside did I allow myself one last glance at the others, but no one cared that we were leaving, except for one person — Nik.
Nikita gave a weak smile with one corner of his mouth and, struggling to raise his hand, waved goodbye to me, as if promising we would see each other again soon.