The Memory Keeper of Kyiv (77)

My sister was dead.





“She blames herself for Alina’s death,” Cassie finally said.

Nick grimaced. “And that guilt is on top of the pain of losing so many others. Really, I’m amazed she’s as stable as she is.”

Cassie shook her head. “I don’t know what to say to her.”

“I wouldn’t say anything yet. We still have a lot to get through.”

“We’re back!” Anna called as she ushered Birdie through the back door. “Birdie is going to finish her cone outside with you guys.”

“Grammy bought me a treat!” Birdie held up a mess of pink frozen yogurt hanging haphazardly off a cone and slurped a mouthful off the top.

Nick tried to hold back his laughter as Birdie moved closer, her cone dripping a trail behind her. She looked over his shoulder at the pictures on the table and pointed a sticky finger.

“Hey, that’s Katya and Alina!” Birdie licked off another messy bite. “Can I see it?”

“Nick will hold it for you,” Cassie said. “Don’t touch anything with those hands. It’s all very old and delicate.”

Birdie nodded as Nick held up the picture of the two girls that Bobby had dropped a few weeks ago.

“Yep, that’s them,” Birdie said. “I wish I had a sister like that.”

Goosebumps popped up on Cassie’s arms as Nick’s brows furrowed.

“Birdie, how do you know this is Katya and Alina?” Nick asked.

Birdie shrugged. “I just do.”





“Bobby telling her stories about Katya and Alina is one thing, but how would she know what they looked like?” Cassie asked Anna as they cleaned up lunch.

“I’m sure Bobby showed her the picture,” Anna said. “You said you saw Bobby carrying it around.”

“Yeah, I guess so.” Cassie gathered up the sandwich ingredients lying out on the table and began putting them away.

“What did Nick say?” Anna asked.

“He’s told me some pretty interesting beliefs his grandma had about death and the afterlife, but he hasn’t given me his own opinion on it.”

“Bobby has some odd notions, too,” Anna said, wiping the table as she talked. “And if she’s telling Birdie about them, then it’s not so far-fetched for Birdie to think she’s talking to Alina.”

“It makes sense when you put it that way,” Cassie said. But deep inside, she wasn’t so sure.

“Now, let’s hear the latest on the journal.” Anna set the dishrag on the sink and turned expectantly towards Cassie. “How far have you gotten?”

Cassie grimaced. “I think you should sit down for this, Mom.”

By the time Cassie had finished updating her mom, tears were rolling down Anna’s cheeks.

“My poor mother. How did she bear it? First her husband, then her child and sister? I’m so glad you stopped me from asking her about Alina when we first found out she had a sister.”

“It’s no wonder she doesn’t want to talk about it,” Cassie said. “I barely survived losing Henry. If it weren’t for Birdie, I don’t know that I could have gone on. And Bobby lost so much more.”

“She had Halya to keep fighting for,” Anna said.

“But what happened to her? She’d be your first cousin. You’d think you’d know of her, at least.” Cassie rubbed her aching temples, hoping to stave off the headache that had been brewing ever since she’d learned of Alina’s death.

“Maybe she died, too,” said Anna. “Even if she didn’t, she’d be almost twenty years older than me. She’d have been an adult when my parents finally emigrated in 1950. She could have stayed in Europe or got married and moved to her husband’s home country. Are any of the letters in the box from her?”

“I don’t think so, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t more letters somewhere in Bobby’s closet. That woman saves everything. But even so, why wouldn’t Bobby have mentioned her to you?”

“I don’t know, Cass, and I don’t know if I want to know anymore right now.” Anna stood and grabbed her purse. “I have to run to the bank.”

“What do you mean you don’t want to know? You don’t want me to update you on the journal anymore?” Cassie couldn’t believe her ears.

Anna fidgeted with her purse strap as she moved towards the door. “I want to hear it. Eventually. But I also want to hear about her happy ending—how she fell in love with my father and rebuilt her life after all of this. I need that balance of joy if I’m going to hear about all this heartache for her, so I think I want to wait to hear the whole story after you finish.”

“But it might not be the happy ending you’re expecting, Mom.”

Anna paused, her hand already on the doorknob. “I know that, Cass.”





24





KATYA





Ukraine, December 1932





“Katya,” Mama’s voice rasped from her bed.

“I’m here,” Katya said from her spot on the edge of the bed Mama hadn’t left in days. Mama dwindled away slowly and steadily. She’d been giving all of her food to Halya for weeks before anyone noticed, having decided that Halya’s life was more important than her own.