Ravil
RavilAgainst my better judgement, Saturday, I drive Lucy to her father’s rehab center as a reward for her good behavior.
She settled into an uneasy routine for the rest of the week. We took daily walks and swims, shared meals. Shared long, intense s*x sessions. Natasha came by to massage her every day. To my amusement, she requested perogies every day and devoured them like they were the finest delicacy. She practiced her Russian with the guys, who I still have not allowed to speak English, despite the fact that she knows they can.
Dima and I closely monitored her phone calls and communications, but she didn’t seem to make any secret or overt pleas for help. Gretchen, her friend from DC—the one she came to Black Light with—called a couple times, but Lucy didn’t answer or call back
