Chapter 219
KATYA POV
"Michael?!" The na slipped out before I could stop it.
He was already moving toward , his expression shifting from surprise to sothing else—relief, maybe. Concern. Too much of it.
My body didn’t like that.
I froze. Not the normal kind. Not the oh-that’s-unexpected kind. The kind where your feet feel glued to the floor and your lungs forget their job.
The mall blurred at the edges.
For a split second, I wasn’t standing under bright lights with polished floors and soft music humming in the background.
I was sowhere narrow. Enclosed. My na echoing again, louder, desperate. A voice calling while everything inside scread that it was already too late.
My grip on the wheelchair tightened until my knuckles burned. Michael took another step closer.
My heart slamd hard against my ribs.
No. He couldn’t be here.
I hadn’t seen him in so long that my mind had folded him away—neatly, carefully—into a part of my past I didn’t touch anymore.
Sowhere between escape and survival. Sowhere I told myself didn’t exist. And now he was walking toward like nothing had happened.
Like ti hadn’t torn apart and rearranged the pieces. Like he hadn’t been there when everything went wrong.
I felt suddenly exposed. Too visible. Too real.
My hood felt loose. My bandages too obvious. My skin prickled with the awareness of being seen—not by strangers, but by soone who rembered a version of being broken.
My chest tightened. What if he wasn’t real What if this was my mind doing what it always did—pulling ghosts out of mories and dressing them up in familiar faces?
Michael stopped a few feet away. He hesitated.. "Katya, is that really you?"
I saw it clearly—the way his step stalled, the way his hand lifted halfway and then dropped again, like he was afraid that if he got any closer I’d dissolve into air.
Neither of us moved, until our eyes t again and sothing in his face broke. Michael crossed the distance in two quick strides.
Before my mind could catch up, his hands closed around mine—the ones still gripping the handles of Nonna’s wheelchair like a lifeline.
My breath hitched. "It’s really you," he said, disbelief thick in his voice. "You’re— you’re here." He pulled into him, the contact was sudden.
My body reacted before my thoughts could, every muscle locking, a sharp jolt of panic shooting straight down my spine.
I flinched so hard, shoulders tensing, fingers curling instinctively as if to push him away but I didn’t.
I couldn’t. I stood there, stiff and unmoving, his arms around while my mind spun wildly, images crashing over one another too fast to separate.
Hands grabbing. A voice calling my na. A room soaked in red. Frank’s dead body. All my fault.
My heart hamred painfully as I stared past his shoulder, eyes unfocused, my body present but my soul hovering sowhere far away.
Michael held like I was sothing he’d been afraid to lose forever. I didn’t hug him back. I didn’t know how.
I didn’t even know what I was supposed to feel.
Relief? Fear? Anger? All of it tangled together until I couldn’t tell one from the other.
"Ahem." Nonna’s soft but intentional cough cut through the mont. Michael stiffened, realization hitting him all at once. He pulled back imdiately, hands lifting as if he’d crossed an invisible line.
"I— I’m sorry," he said quickly, searching my face. "I didn’t an to— I just—"
"It’s fine," I lied, because that was what I was good at. My voice sounded steady. My insides were not.
"Do you know him, Katya?" Nonna voice was sharp. Not loud. Not raised. Just... hard.
It startled more than Michael’s sudden hug had. I’d heard Nonna angry before—once, maybe twice. When she’d scread at Roo, her voice had been fire and grief and fury all at once.
That had made sense. That had earned the heat in her tone. This didn’t.
And yet here it was cold, clipped, protective in a way that made my chest tighten. I swallowed, she could feel how uncomfortable I was in this situation.
"Yes," I said. The word ca out thinner than I wanted, my voice trembling despite my effort to steady it. "I do."
Nonna’s eyes didn’t leave Michael’s face. "Is he family?" The question landed heavy between us.
"No." I shook my head slowly. Michael shifted his weight, clearly confused now, his brows pulling together as he glanced between us.
I could feel his attention on , waiting, hoping—maybe fearing—whatever I’d say next. Nonna’s fingers curled lightly against the armrest of her wheelchair.
"Is he bothering you?" she asked. The question was simple. I opened my mouth and stopped.
Bothering ?
I didn’t know how to na what I felt. It wasn’t fear exactly, not in the present sense. And it wasn’t comfort either.
Seeing Michael was like tasting sothing familiar after years of hunger sweet and painful all at once.
Bittersweet. A mory that still had teeth. It wasn’t like Michael did bad in the past, it was quite the opposite.
He was the perfect ad normal thing that happened to after my escape until Roo cut that off.
Seeing him here just makes want to dissolve into thin air. "I..." I hesitated, my gaze dropping to the floor.
The silence was thick. Michael’s confusion sharpening into sothing more alert, more defensive. He looked directly at Nonna for the first ti, really looked at her.
"Katya... is everything okay? Is she— is she threatening you?" he asked, his tone polite but edged, like he was bracing himself.
Nonna lifted her chin. "Excuse ?" The word carried weight. Finality.
"You are the one who appeared from nowhere. You are the one who touched her without asking. You are the one who made mia cara uncomfortable and here you are accusing?."
Her gaze sharpened on him, unblinking.
"If you think that is acceptable behavior, then you are mistaken."
If Nonna could stand, if her legs would carry her, she would already be between us. She would already be shielding with her own body, her hands, her fury.
The thought made sothing twist beautifully in my chest. Michael’s mouth opened, his expression flashing with disbelief. "I didn’t an— I just— she’s my—"
His words never finished as A presence stepped in beside us, close enough that I felt it before I fully saw it.
Black suit. Clean lines. Broad shoulders.
The air shifted. "Is there a problem here?"
The voice was calm. Neutral. Too controlled. My stomach dropped.
I turned sharply and my breath caught.
††
Ok don’t hate on anyone rn, Katya is scared for Michael no because she isn’t happy to see him but last ti they ever set eyes on each other was when Roo killed Frank.
So yeah an nonna isn’t comfortable with how he’s making Katya freeze. She wanted Katya is enjoy her day not have a panic attack lol.
So yh, thanks for reading.
Tell ur thoughts please
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