But by the time Barbara walked down to the smaller table, there was nothing to see but a kindly old woman. She held her hands out to the girls. “Hello, Katya. Hello, Elena. Do you remember me? I’m a friend of your father’s. He sent me here to bring you home. Would you like that?”
Katya hesitated, but Elena put her tiny hand into Barbara’s and gazed up at her with trust in her round brown eyes. “Yes please,” she said. “I miss my daddy.” After a moment, Katya took Barbara’s other hand, and they started to walk towards the door.
“Wait a minute!” Grace screeched, running over to block their way. “You can’t just take my children.”
Barbara raised one silvery eyebrow. “No? You took them from their father. I am simply taking them back.”
“But—but, I’m their mother,” Grace stuttered. “They belong with me.”
“Fine,” Barbara said. She looked Grace in the eye. “You have a choice. You can come with us, and take the chance that you can work out some kind of agreement with your husband. Or you can stay with Jonathan. But you can’t have both. I am willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, and believe that you only helped Jonathan smear your husband’s reputation because you were under his influence. But if you choose not to go back and repair the damage you’ve done, and voluntarily stay with the man who did it, I will make sure you never see these children again.” Her expression was hard, her tone unwavering. “It’s your choice. But you have to choose now, because we’re leaving.”
Grace wavered, her gaze moving from the little girls clutching Barbara’s hands to the handsome man sitting crumpled and forlorn, alone at the end of the table.
“Ivan will never be able to convince a judge to let him have those girls back,” she said, finally, glaring fiercely at Barbara. “The damage is done. You might as well leave them here with us.”
Barbara shook her head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Grace. You may have made it impossible for Ivan and the girls to return to their old life, but that doesn’t mean they can’t build another, even better one.”
“I don’t understand,” Grace said.
“That, my dear, is obvious in more ways than one,” Barbara said with a snort. “Ivan comes from the Russian community, and they take care of their own. He and Katya and Elena will disappear into the depths of that community, with new names and new identities, and soon the authorities will forget that Ivan Dmetriev ever existed.”
She waved a hand in Jonathan’s direction. “Unlike this man’s false family, created out of illusions and lies and manipulation, Ivan’s extended family is real and true, and they will never let him down. Not one person will ever tell you where they are. So choose now. There will not be a second chance.”
Grace bit her lip, then slowly backed away from her children until she was standing next to Jonathan, one hand resting on his shoulder. “I’m sorry, girls. But Jonathan needs me. He’s all alone now. I know you’ll understand when you’re older.”
Barbara gritted her teeth so the rude words in her head couldn’t make it out into a room with children in it. She would never understand Humans. Well, never mind. She’d given the woman a choice, and she’d made it. It was time to go.
As she walked out through the open front door, she could see Ivan’s truck parked at the bottom of the driveway, right where she’d told him to be. When he spotted the girls, he came racing towards them, and Barbara let go of their hands so they could run into his arms. He scooped them both up, hugging them as though he would never let them go. All three of them were crying, and Barbara felt a suspicious wetness at the corners of her own eyes, which she wiped away before anyone could see.
By the time she’d walked at a more sedate pace down the shadowy drive, Ivan was fastening his daughters into their car seats. He swung around defensively as she came up to him, and she laughed at the confusion on his face.
“I promised you I would get your children back,” she said in her own voice. “And so I have.”
“Baba Yaga?” Ivan said uncertainly. “Is that you?”
“It is and it isn’t,” Barbara said. “But close enough, at the moment.”
Ivan dropped to one knee, bowing his head. “I owe you more than I can possibly repay, Baba Yaga. You have given me back my heart, my life, my whole world. How can I thank you enough?”
“You can get up off the ground, for one thing,” she said in a dry voice. “Your children probably think you are being very silly.”
Giggles from the truck proved the truth of this statement, and Barbara had to hide a grin behind one still-wrinkled hand. After all, there was a formula of sorts for these things, and this was supposed to be a solemn moment.
“You came to me with a favor that was owed, and I have repaid it in full, do you not agree?” she said.