The tension inside the apartment had reached a breaking point when Boris dragged Annie out of her room. He was breathing hard after stopping her escape, and his face was twisted with anger. He threw the packed backpack into the middle of the hallway.
The little girl clung to the doorframe, refusing to take another step toward the future he had chosen for her. Her fingers had gone white from gripping the wood. Tears ran without stopping.
Down below, the social services van honked impatiently. The driver wanted to finish the pickup before curfew and kept leaning on the horn. Boris knew he was only moments away from getting everything he wanted.
In his mind he was already planning what to do with the apartment. He meant to sell it fast through shady contacts and leave the country with the money. He pictured a comfortable life somewhere far from consequences.
Annie held her one remaining comfort close: the old teddy bear her father had given her before deployment. It was the last real thread connecting her to the life she used to have. Boris noticed and snatched it away.
“I told you to leave this junk here,” he shouted. Then he threw the bear to the floor and kicked it several times with his boot. The seams split, and white stuffing spilled out.
Annie let out a scream so full of hurt that it cut through the apartment like glass. She dropped to the floor and tried to shield the torn toy with her own body. It was the kind of cry that would stop any decent person cold…
