Page 83 of Maksim

I never had a real father.

My memories, once pure and soothing, come up like acid and make me wrap my arms around my stomach to quell physical pain.

He doesn’t love me.

He never did.

Worse. A deeper fear. A fear I’ve never spoken aloud, a fear realized over and over again.

I’m not lovable.

The city fades in the rearview, and the roads Maksim takes become increasingly rural. He stops at a small grocery store and comes out with a bouquet of lavender flowers.

I turn my head from him, thinking he’s trying to cheer me up or something, but he doesn’t give them to me. Instead, he sets them in the back seat and pulls back onto the road.

“Where are we going?” I ask, breaking the silence. My voice doesn’t even sound sad. It just sounds empty. Like my father took the last of me.

Maksim takes a long time to answer. “There’s something I want to show you.”

23

ELIRA

The sun is setting by the time we reach our destination, and if I didn’t trust Maksim, I would think he might be bringing me out here to kill me. It would be the perfect spot to hide a body.

We haven’t seen a gas station, a house, a car, or any other sign of civilization in a while. Even the cornfields stopped at some point, leaving nothing but barren land.

Maksim slowly pulls the rental car onto a dirt driveway that vibrates the car so badly my teeth chatter.

I bite down and hold onto my seat while he eases the car down the driveway. There’s an old farmhouse up ahead with weeds surrounding it so tall they whip the windows.

“Where are we?” I ask, my brow furrowed as I look over at Maksim, but I regret the question when I spot his white knuckles gripping the steering wheel.

His face is cold and blank, nothing I haven’t seen before. I would miss the tension if it wasn’t for that grip.

Without answering me, he parks in front of the house and shuts off the car. His gaze veers toward a barn that looks like it used to be red but is now faded with only paint chips to hint at its past. It’s leaning slightly. A few good windstorms would blow it down.

I watch him watching the barn like there’s something sinister inside. He isn’t noting the paint or wear. He’s remembering something.

I look around, trying to make sense of this place, like the ghosts Maksim is looking for will be there to answer questions I’m not so sure Maksim will.

The paper wrapped bouquet in the backseat ruffles, and I turn just in time to see Maksim throw open his door and carry them out of the car.

He doesn’t wait for me or ask me to come with him, so I just watch as he walks up to the house, disappearing behind it.

I wait a minute, my teeth digging into my lip.

Am I really just going to sit here?

I look around again. The more time that passes, the creepier the place seems.

Letting go of my lip, I climb out of the car and jog after where Maksim disappeared, stopping when I spot him standing in front of a tree fifty metres behind the house.

My feet find something hard when I step beneath an arch, and I look down to see weeds popping from broken pieces of brick that go all the way to Maksim. It’s hard to tell, but I think this used to be a garden. There are old pots sprouting long, green weeds, and when I look closely, I spot a piece of fencing fallen over and swallowed up by greenery.

I creep up behind Maksim, my head bowed with what I tell myself is respect but what may be fear. I feel so dead inside, but there must still be life because I couldn’t take his anger right now. My chest tightens just thinking of it.

The flowers he brought are laid carefully at the base of the tree.