I’m still struggling. I’ve known Adrian for a long time. Years. Kolya, I’ve only known for months. And yet it’s funny how much time can be compressed when the connection between two people is strong enough.

That week leading up to the wedding, we’d fallen asleep together every night and woken up together every morning. I’d open my eyes to find his hand cupping my hip, keeping me close to him. Or to feel his beard tickling the insides of my thighs as I woke up and came on his face almost simultaneously.

But I haven’t forgotten the other pieces. The things that make sense now, even if I ignored the red flags before.

How he slept every night in a t-shirt.

How he never changed in front of me.

How, even when we made love, his clothes stayed on.

I always figured he would tell me what was happening when he was ready to. Looking back on it now, though, it’s easy to see how I was making the same mistake I’d made with Adrian. I was attempting to be the good girlfriend again. The kind who kept her mouth shut, who didn’t rock the boat, who looked the other way.

Which just made it easier for them to lie to me. Is that why both brothers are drawn to me? Because they see how much easier their lives are with me in it?

I’ve always been the convenient choice.

Just not the right one.

I hear the door creak open in the front room and I hurriedly shove the ring back into my bra, just before Adrian walks into the room from wherever he goes during the days. He tells me he’s waiting for the right moment where we can finally leave the city, when Kolya’s patrols ease up and give us the opportunity. So far, it shows no signs of coming any time soon.

“I got us some food,” he calls over his shoulder as he drops things on the upside-down crate serving as a nightstand.

Once again, I can smell fried cooking oil and salt. My stomach roils. “I’m not hungry.”

“You have to eat,” he insists. He turns around and offers me a small black phone. “I brought you something else, too. You’ll need one in an emergency. I programmed my number into it already.”

I accept the phone reluctantly. Just a chunk of plastic, warm and sticky to the touch from Adrian’s body heat. “Thanks,” I murmur. “But you really didn’t need to. It’s not like I have anyone to contact.”

I’m trying hard not to be self-pitying, but some days, it’s hard.

“It’s best not to contact anyone anyway,” Adrian says. He shuffles anxiously in place and looks down at his feet. “I didn’t want to say anything, but…”

“But what?” I ask, pushing myself upright with a wince.

He runs a hand through his hair, the mirror image of Kolya. “Word on the street is that the patrols aren’t standing down like I hoped they would. The opposite, actually. According to my sources, he’s mounted a full-scale search for you.”