The Beautiful Spy – Prologue

Hi! I am Myra Rob Ivanov. Yes that may sound like a tongue twister. Rob being my father’s name. In Russia, our middle name is our father’s actual given name. Hence, Rob.

My father worked for the government, a magistrate as they tell me. I was only two years old when he died in a car accident. I have no emotional attachment or fond memory of him.
However, I have some memories of my mother who left me two years after him with all the depression shit she was facing after dad died. Although no good memories. Just that when I look at a picture of her, I can atleast recognise her as my mother.

I remember tagging along my nanny, Anna who would take bowl of food and plate to a small room where my mom rested and feed her like she fed me.

It was a routine for few months till her last day. Once I’d asked Anna why mom didn’t get up from her bed and eat the food on her own. I don’t remember though what her reply was.

I used to just sit at the chair beside her bed and watch the process as Anna fed my mom until she would refuse the bite with a nod. My mom didn’t eat much. Just few spoons then Anna would give her the medicines.

I don’t think my mom remember who I was. She must have thought I am Anna’s kid.

It was 7th December, 1996 when as per the scheduled time we knocked on her door with Anna holding up the tray of food. She slowly pushed the door open with her elbow.
I gave a quick glance to mom who seemed asleep and walked to my usual spot and sat on the chair silently.
Anna put the tray on the side table and slowly nudged my mom.
“Martha, wake up!”
My mom didn’t blink her eyes or move her head slightly as she normally does on her call.
“Lunch is ready Martha.”
For few minutes, Anna persistently called her to wake her up but there was no response.
That’s when they took me away from that room.
Later at dinner time, Anna came to my room and I noticed how her eyes were red and swollen as if she had just cried.
She hugged me and told that mom had left us and that she was in heaven with the angels.
Apparently my mom had threatened Martha to never address her as madam or so because it made her uncomfortable. It was one of the things I remember very well from that night because Anna had said it amidst the tears streaming down her face as I hugged her and cried too.
“Your mom was such a lovely person Myra. She even cooked me food when she was in good health. Never made me feel something less.” She sobbed reminiscing past memories.

I must have fallen asleep because when I woke up later, there were around ten men dressed in all black who helped us with the funeral.
I was confused and hesitated to meet them initially but Anna had told me they were good people who helped the needy and that they were here to take us to a nice place.

“They will take us to a big house. You will have a beautiful room of your own sweetie with lots of dolls.” Anna had said.

20 years has passed and I am still trying to find the little dolls she promised me.

***

A/N: Thank you for the read. I hope you liked the prologue.
Please forgive me for any errors I made. Love to all.❤️

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