Apparently we are just ignoring this. After I prepare dinner, Ma has me serve the family and clean up the dishes. I finally finish and she hands me yet another list of chores to complete. If she would help me, we would finish in less than half an hour. But instead, she sits and watches me work the whole day long until I’m about to collapse from exhaustion. Is this some kind of sick punishment?
Finally, after all of the dinner dishes are cleaned, she asks me to sit down with her at the kitchen table. I am hardly in a position to disagree with her as I feel like my legs are about to fall out from under me.
“Here,” she slides a mug with tea across the table, which only serves to remind me of my earlier mishap.
I pick it up and take a sip to appease her, though my stomach is in knots. I set the cup back down on the table, fold my hands in my lap, and look at her until she finally speaks.
“Maria, I know you have come to us for help but I have spoken with your father, and we both think the best course of action is just to let it rest and hope nothing comes of it.”
I try to interrupt her but she just holds up her hand and continues, “Neither your father nor I believe anything will come of it. If it does, we can deal with it then. Dealing with it now just risks alerting the authorities ourselves, and I don’t believe it is worth the risk. I will call on Alexei’s family with you in the morning and make sure everyone is in agreement. But I’m sure this is the best course of action.”
I sit in stunned silence.
“All right, dear?”
“Yes,” I say as I get up from my chair. “I guess I’ll just go to bed, then.”
There’s no way I’m letting this drop. I can’t let Alexei go to jail for me.
I have to turn my light out at 9:30 pm. There’s no way I’m breaking any more rules than absolutely necessary until I figure out how to get us out of this situation.
“Goodnight, Dad,” I smile as he comes in to make sure my curtains are drawn and my light is out.
“Goodnight, Maria,” he kisses my forehead.
He starts to walk away as I lift my covers over my legs. He is almost in the hallway when I decide to stop him.
“Dad?”
He turns and looks at me, the light from the hallway outlining his silhouette as he spoke, “Yes?”
“Do you really think we’re doing the right thing?” I pause and wait for an answer before adding, “By not doing anything, I mean.”
His shoulders slump forward slightly, “I don’t know what the right thing is, my dear. But I know we have very few options. It seems doing anything right away might make it worse rather than better. I’m sure you can understand.”
I can’t, actually.
“Yeah, I guess.” I curl up under my blanket so he will believe I’m going to bed.
“Well, goodnight,” he closes the door to my room.
“See you in the morning,” I speak to the air.
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