MOUNT VERNON, OH, 1992
Mount Vernon, Ohio, 1992
Her sharp eyes immediately scanned the area around them as they stepped out of the airport, instinctively searching for any signs of potential threats. Her heightened senses, finely tuned from years of combat and training, kept her alert. She mentally marked the positions of the few people milling about, weighing each one in a fraction of a second. No immediate danger presented itself, but Natalia wasn’t fooled. She knew better than to let her guard down, especially in unfamiliar territory. Her attention was drawn away from the crowd when she spotted a young girl standing just a few feet away. The child looked to be around three years old, with messy, curly blonde hair that tumbled around her face in a carefree tangle. Natalia’s gaze lingered on the girl, something about her striking a chord deep within. She couldn’t be certain, but this was most likely her ‘sister’.
Her suspicions were soon confirmed as Melina and Alexei walked toward the little girl, their familiar figures unmistakable. There was a quiet, unspoken connection between the three of them, something that tied them together, even though they had been living separate lives for years. The girl, with her bright eyes and eager expression, seemed to be their daughter. And yet, Nat knew better than anyone that appearances could be deceiving. This child, likely a product of the Red Room’s relentless conditioning, had probably been made to believe Melina and Alexei were her real parents.
But Nat’s attention wasn’t just focused on the girl. There was another figure standing nearby—a woman who looked to be in her late thirties, perhaps early forties, standing with an air of calm professionalism. The woman’s posture was straight, her hands neatly clasped in front of her. The lines on her face hinted at a life of experience, the kind of person who had seen too much and said too little. Natalia’s trained instincts told her immediately that this was no ordinary bystander. The woman’s bearing was too precise, too controlled. This was another Widow, likely assigned to bring Yelena to them, part of the larger operation that had spanned years of espionage and manipulation. The woman’s presence reminded Natalia that even the smallest things could be part of a much bigger plan—nothing was ever as simple as it seemed.
The woman spoke first, her voice smooth, carrying a note of formality that Nat couldn’t quite place. “Melina, it is good to see you, and of course you too, Alexei,” she said, offering a small, respectful smile. Her eyes, however, flicked briefly toward Natalia, assessing her with quiet scrutiny, before returning to Melina and Alexei.
“As well as you, Irene,” Melina responded warmly, her tone softer, perhaps more familiar than it had been with the woman. Natalia observed how they interacted with each other—carefully measured, yet comfortable. There was a history here, something long established. But what exactly that history was, Nat couldn’t say for certain. She wasn’t in the mood to ask questions, though. She simply observed and filed away the details for later.
Kneeling down to Yelena’s level, Melina spoke in a soft, affectionate voice, her hands brushing the girl’s unruly hair from her face. “Hey, sweetie, did you have a fun time with Auntie Irene?” she asked, her smile kind, even though Nat could detect the edge of something else beneath the surface. A perfect mother figure, at least in appearance. Natalia’s gaze flickered to Yelena, whose blue eyes widened with a mix of innocence and trust.
Yelena nodded eagerly, her little hands reaching out for Melina, saying in a small, sweet voice, “Mama, up.” She opened her arms wide, waiting to be lifted, her trust in the woman evident. Natalia knew exactly what this was. Yelena had been conditioned to believe that Melina and Alexei were her family. The Red Room’s influence could make a child see what it wanted them to see—manufacturing bonds that never truly existed. A bond built on lies, woven into the very fabric of her upbringing.
Melina didn’t hesitate. She lifted Yelena effortlessly, settling the child on her hip. The moment was one of quiet domesticity, almost too perfect. Natalia’s gaze lingered on them for a moment, but her mind was already calculating, analyzing every move. They were playing a role—one they had played before. The illusion of family, wrapped in the careful folds of necessity.
Melina motioned for Nat to come closer, and she did so, feeling the weight of the moment settle on her. She stepped forward, the distance between them closing as Melina placed a hand gently on her upper back, a silent gesture that held no warmth for Nat but was meant for the others. A sign of solidarity, she thought. A reminder that this was part of the plan.
“Nat,” Melina began, her tone smooth but with a touch of formality, “this is Irene. An... old friend,” she added with a glance toward Irene, as though there was more to the relationship than simple friendship, though Natalia could see that she wasn’t exactly eager to explain further. Natalia didn’t ask. There was no need. Her instincts already told her what she needed to know about Irene’s role in their world. She offered a brief, polite “hello” to the woman, though her gaze was cool and composed. Irene didn’t return the greeting with warmth but with a quiet nod, her eyes scanning Natalia with an unspoken calculation.
“Well, we’d better be off if we want to get settled in,” Melina announced, her voice shifting to something more practical, more familiar. She gave Irene a parting smile and then turned to lead them away. The transition back into this charade of a family was seamless, the years of training in manipulation and deception never far from the surface.
With that, they said their goodbyes to Irene, who lingered for a moment, watching them leave with an unreadable expression on her face. Natalia didn’t look back at her, not yet. Her attention shifted to the waiting car parked just outside the terminal.
Nat noticed with mild amusement that Alexei was struggling to click the seat belts into place. He muttered under his breath, clearly frustrated with the unfamiliarity of the car’s mechanism.
“Haha, you’re silly, Daddy,” Yelena’s voice rang out from her seat, breaking through the silence of the car as she watched her father struggle with the seatbelt. “You do it like this!” she announced confidently, her little hands reaching for the seatbelt with surprising skill for someone her age. In one fluid motion, she snapped the straps into place, securing herself like a seasoned pro.
“Ahh, of course, my smart little girl, huh?” Alexei’s deep laughter rumbled through the car, clearly impressed by Yelena’s dexterity. He leaned forward with a grin, his large hands reaching over the back of the seat toward her, ready to shower her with affection. He began to tickle Yelena’s sides, and the little girl burst into laughter, her face lighting up with pure joy. She squirmed, her hands flailing in delight as her giggles filled the car.
Nat couldn’t help but glance at them briefly, though her gaze was detached, almost robotic. She watched the display, noting how natural it all seemed. Alexei’s laughter, Yelena’s infectious joy—it was like something out of a dream, a life that felt so distant from anything Nat had ever known. Real families, she thought with a quiet ache in her chest. Families who could laugh without any ulterior motives. She wasn’t sure she could fully comprehend that kind of freedom. Her own memories of family were nothing more than shadows—manipulated fragments of a life stolen from her. For her, family had always been a lie, a construct built for missions, for survival, for camouflage. There was no warmth in it. No true bond.
As the car began to move, Natalia settled into the backseat, her eyes drifting to the window as the cityscape of America unfolded before her. The transition from the airport had been quick, and now they were driving through unfamiliar streets, surrounded by a world that felt both foreign and oddly comforting. The streets here were wide, the buildings less intimidating and more open, as if the entire place was designed for visibility and connection. People walked more freely, the air seemed lighter, and the sunlight was a sharp contrast to the cold, oppressive skies she had known back in Russia.
It was almost unnerving how normal everything seemed—how easy it looked. She could see children riding their bikes down the sidewalks, families walking together, neighbors waving across yards. It was an image of peace, and that made Nat’s instincts bristle. She didn’t trust peace, not completely. Her years of training had taught her to be skeptical of anything that seemed too idyllic. She knew better than to believe that this was the reality for everyone. There were always hidden dangers, always risks. And the farther she looked into this new world, the more she wondered what was lying beneath the surface.
Yelena, oblivious to the internal turmoil her older companion was experiencing, chattered nonstop from the seat beside Nat. Her little voice was a constant stream of excited words, mostly about the new house they were going to, and all the things she was looking forward to. “I want to put my toys there!” she said, pointing to some invisible spot in the distance. “And maybe a big couch, and a TV!” She babbled on, oblivious to the gravity of the situation. For her, this was just another adventure, a new chapter in a life she hadn’t yet come to understand.
Natalia tried to pay attention, though it was difficult. Her mind was still spinning from the whirlwind of the last few hours. Her body was here, but her thoughts were still trying to catch up with the situation. She had expected something different, something more dangerous, perhaps. But instead, she was here—inside this car, in the back of a family vehicle, with a little girl talking to her as though they were simply two people passing the time.
It wasn’t a conversation that required much participation, and Natalia found herself drifting in and out of the discussion, the words a soft hum in the background as her mind returned to the mission at hand. This new “family” would need to be convincing, seamless in every detail. She’d been in this game before—pretending to be something she wasn’t, creating bonds out of thin air. But it had never been quite like this. The stakes had never been this personal.
After a few more minutes of driving, the car turned into a quiet suburban neighborhood. The houses here were large but not too imposing, each sitting on a well-kept lawn, with white picket fences and neatly trimmed hedges. Natalia’s eyes moved across the landscape, watching as children rode their bikes up and down the sidewalks. Some were playing basketball, others were chasing each other around in games of tag. The scene was so… normal. Boring, she thought with a hint of cynicism. Unrealistic.
But as the car slowed and made its way down the street, Nat couldn’t help the faint stirrings of something unfamiliar. There was a sense of longing inside her, a crack in the wall she had built around herself. She’d never had the chance to experience anything like this—this sense of community, this simplicity. Her world had always been one of survival, of constant movement, of never knowing where you would end up next or who would be waiting for you. To see these children, so carefree, so happy, was a reminder of just how far from normal her own existence had become.
Alexei must have noticed her quiet fixation, because he suddenly turned to her with a mischievous grin, his large hand resting on the back of the driver’s seat as he spoke up, his tone light. “You know, I can teach you how to ride a bike if you want? A big kid one, like theirs,” he said, his voice tinged with playfulness.
The suggestion caught Nat off guard, and for a moment, she stared at him, unsure of how to respond. A bike? She’d never learned to ride one—not that she had ever had the time or opportunity. But the question wasn’t as simple as it seemed. It was an invitation, an offer to be part of something she had never had.
“Okay,” she said slowly, her voice calm but laced with curiosity. The word came out before she could second-guess herself. It was a simple acknowledgment, but it carried weight. She wasn’t sure what to make of it, but the idea of something so mundane—so utterly outside of her experience—felt almost like a glimpse into a life she’d never had the luxury of wanting.
Before she could think further on it, Yelena’s voice rang out from the back seat, eager and insistent. “ME TOO!” she declared with enthusiasm, clearly excited about the prospect of learning something new. Her face was glowing with anticipation, her eyes wide with excitement as she practically bounced in her seat. It was clear that she hadn’t even considered the possibility that she might not be ready for a big bike.
“I don’t know about that, pretty girl,” Melina interjected from the front seat, her voice light but firm. “You might be a little too small right now, but I’m sure we could find you a little one.” She glanced back at Yelena with a knowing smile, clearly trying to temper her enthusiasm while still keeping the conversation playful.
Yelena’s face immediately fell, her lips turning into a pout as she crossed her arms in displeasure. “Aww,” she said, her voice dripping with disappointment. She was clearly not satisfied with the idea of a smaller bike, but she was too young to fully understand that she might not yet be ready for a big one.
Natalia, feeling a sudden shift in the mood, decided to break the silence. She turned slightly to Yelena, trying to engage her in a way that didn’t feel too forced. “Hey, Yelena, are you excited to decorate your room?” Natalia asked, her voice soft, trying to bridge the gap between them.
Yelena’s eyes immediately lit up, her earlier pout forgotten as she burst into a grin. “I want it pink! And a big princess bed!” she said, her voice full of childlike excitement. Her eyes sparkled with anticipation as she spoke, her hands gesturing wildly as if she could already see the room in her mind.
Alexei chuckled from the front seat, clearly enjoying the conversation. “I’ll make sure we get you a princess bed, okay?” he said warmly, his tone full of affection. He glanced over his shoulder at Yelena and then back to Nat, as if this small moment of connection was the kind of thing that could bring them all closer together.
Natalia nodded quietly, though the feeling of detachment didn’t leave her. She couldn’t help but wonder if Yelena’s excitement was genuine or if it had been ingrained in her as part of the Red Room’s programming. Either way, Natalia wasn’t sure if she could ever feel the kind of warmth that Alexei and Melina were offering so freely. The cracks in her own heart, formed by years of pain and betrayal, were not easily mended. But she couldn’t ignore the little tug of something—something like hope—that Yelena’s innocent joy brought out in her.
The car slowed as they pulled into the driveway of their new home, the engine humming softly as it came to a stop. The house was modest yet inviting, nestled among the other homes on the street. It was the kind of place that blended seamlessly into the neighborhood, the kind of place where families like theirs would go unnoticed, where no one would question their presence. The brick exterior was well-kept, the lawn neat, and the driveway large enough to park two cars. It was an ordinary home, and that was exactly what they needed.
Before the car had even fully stopped, Yelena was already unbuckling herself, her small hands eager to jump out and explore. “Hurry, Nattie, I wanna see my room!” she called over her shoulder, her excitement palpable.
Natalia unbuckled her seatbelt with a practiced motion and slid out of the car, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she straightened up. She reached for Yelena’s small hand, taking it gently in her own to prevent her from running off ahead. Yelena’s energy was uncontainable, her little legs carrying her at a near sprint toward the front door, her voice still ringing out as she ran. Natalia glanced up at the house as they approached, noting how it looked like every other house on the block—ordinary, safe, and suspiciously perfect for their purpose.
Melina was already at the door, fumbling with the keys as she unlocked it. The door creaked open, and the scent of fresh paint and new carpet hit Nat’s nose. It felt like a house that had been designed to feel warm, inviting, and family-friendly. She had been in homes like this before, but never as someone who was meant to belong to it.
“Welcome home,” Melina said with a smile as they stepped inside, her voice warm but carrying an undertone of calculated professionalism. She led them through the front door into the open layout of the home, a design that was spacious enough to accommodate their needs, yet modest enough to not draw attention. The living room was slightly sunken, with a plush couch in the center and a large flat-screen TV on the wall. The kitchen was elevated just enough to make it feel like a distinct space, with wooden cabinets and countertops that had the soft gleam of newness.
Melina moved ahead, gesturing to various rooms as she spoke. “Here’s the bathroom on the ground floor, and this,” she said, opening a door, “is the office. We’ll use it for work when we need to, but for now, it’s just an empty room.”
Nat nodded along, her eyes scanning the space. There was nothing remarkable about it, and that suited her fine. A few feet down the hall, Melina opened another door to reveal a guest room, its bed neatly made with plain white linens. The room, though sparsely decorated, had a homey, lived-in feel, as if it were waiting for someone to stay for an extended period. Nat couldn’t help but notice the subtle details—the carefully folded blankets, the simple art on the walls. Everything here was designed to blend in, to look like a real family home.
Melina then motioned for them to follow her up the staircase. The second floor was where the bedrooms were. As they reached the top, Melina pointed to two rooms across from each other. “These are your rooms,” she said, with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Nat, yours is a bit bigger, but only just. It’s the guest room for now until we figure out what else to do.”
Natalia didn’t care about the size of the room. She had lived in far worse conditions. This room would serve its purpose. She could already tell that it was sparsely furnished—a single bed, a desk, and a simple wardrobe. It was functional, but it didn’t feel like a home. Not yet, anyway.
As she walked into her room, Nat glanced around briefly, her gaze falling on the box of clothes sitting on the bed. Melina had already told her that they would go shopping tomorrow to pick out new things. The thought of picking out clothes for herself felt strange—she had never really had the chance to buy things just for herself, things that weren’t part of a disguise or a mission. It was an unfamiliar feeling, one that made her uncomfortable.
“Hey, girls, do you mind if we do something quick before we unpack your rooms?” Melina’s voice broke her from her thoughts, and Nat turned to see her mother figure standing in the hallway, looking at them both with that same practiced smile.
Natalia shrugged her shoulders, offering nothing more than a nonchalant expression. Yelena mirrored her motion, her little arms raising and falling dramatically, a playful mimicry of her older sister. Natalia found it strange how easily the child picked up on her mannerisms, how she seemed so eager to please, so quick to fit into the family dynamic.
Melina led them back downstairs, where Alexei was busy setting up a backdrop in the living room. It wasn’t hard for Nat to figure out what was going on. The props scattered around the room were a clear indication: Easter baskets, stuffed bunnies, spring decorations. A meticulously crafted setup designed to create a false narrative of holidays, family moments, and happiness.
It was all fake, but it was necessary. They needed to build a history, a timeline of memories that looked real, memories that would sell their cover. The photoshoot was part of that. It was another piece of the puzzle, and Nat had learned long ago to play her part in these kinds of charades.
Melina handed them both dresses—yellow for Yelena, green for Natalia. The dresses were simple, summery, and childlike. Natalia took the green dress with a quiet sigh, her fingers brushing the soft fabric before she slipped it over her head. It felt like a costume, not something she would ever choose for herself. But she had learned to adapt. To blend in.
The photoshoot was a blur of smiles and fake joy. Yelena holding chocolate bunnies, her eyes wide with excitement. The two girls together, sitting side by side, their arms around each other as if they had been a family for years. Easter photos, Thanksgiving moments, and finally, Christmas. The tree was beautifully decorated with sparkling ornaments and tinsel, a cozy fire burning in the background. The illusion was complete. For a moment, Natalia almost allowed herself to feel something—a flash of excitement, maybe a glimmer of hope that she might actually be part of something real.
But that feeling evaporated quickly when she picked up the wrapped gift under the tree, only to feel the emptiness inside. The wrapping crinkled in her hands, and her heart sank as she realized that it was hollow. The present wasn’t real. None of it was.
“Ah, that’s a perfect face, Nat, hold the present and freeze!” Melina’s voice was cheery, but it held an edge, a forcefulness that made Nat’s skin crawl. She tried not to let her disappointment show, keeping her face neutral as she held the empty box, the pretend joy of the moment becoming increasingly difficult to maintain.
By the time the photoshoot wrapped up, the evening had fallen. Yelena had long since fallen asleep, her small body exhausted from the day’s excitement. Alexei carefully carried her upstairs, cradling her gently in his arms as they made their way to her new room. Natalia watched them go, her own emotions a mix of confusion and resignation.
“Goodnight, Nat,” Melina called as she passed Nat’s doorway, pausing in the doorway for a moment before smiling at her.
Natalia hesitated. She opened her mouth, the word “Mom” almost slipping out, but it caught in her throat. It wasn’t something she could say—not yet. Instead, she simply replied, “Goodnight...” Her voice was soft, almost uncertain.
Melina smiled, that reassuring smile that never quite reached her eyes, and then disappeared down the stairs, her footsteps fading into the distance.
Natalia closed the door behind her and took in the emptiness of the room. It was just as she had left it—a space with no personal touches, nothing that belonged to her. Only the box of clothes and the unfamiliar scent of new paint filled the space. She walked over to the window and opened it, her gaze moving out into the backyard. The night air was cool, and the backyard stretched out before her like an endless stretch of woods. Tiny yellow bugs flitted through the air, glowing in the dark like miniature stars.
A small smile tugged at the corner of Natalia’s lips as she watched them dance in the light. She could already imagine Yelena’s excitement over seeing them tomorrow. There was something magical about them, something that made this place feel a little less like a cage.
In that brief moment, Nat allowed herself to feel something—a flicker of hope that perhaps, just perhaps, this could be a real family, or at least the chance for one. It was fleeting, but it was there. A small, fragile seed of possibility that had been planted in the quiet of the night.