A package arrived in the mail today addressed to me. I opened the cardboard flaps to find a handheld fan and a handwritten letter.

The yellowed paper read:

_Dearest Anya,_

_After fifteen years of searching, I have finally found you. I know you’re all grown now, learning new things and being the most extraordinary girl to ever grace this Earth. Meanwhile, I remain confined in the borders of Russia, missing my beloved daughter terribly. The only thing I can give you is the fan I always held when I once was a prima ballerina. I hope this brings you good luck as much as it did for me. _

_When you get this package, write back, and whatever you do, do not tell your father._

_ _

_Love, your mother_

Confusion struck me. I read it over again.

“Anya,” my father peeped in through the crack in the door. I folded the note, put it back in the box, and quickly shoved it under my bed.

“Yes, father,” I dutifully replied.

He greeted me with a suspicious glance. “Where did you get that?”

“Get what?” I cocked my head to the side, feigning confusion.

“That package,” He gestured to the brown box below me.

“Oh! I’m just preparing a gift for my friend Betty. Her birthday is coming up soon.”

“May I see it?”

I shook my head as he advanced toward me. His hands swiftly grabbed the box before I could stop him. “Anya, you know you aren’t allowed to lie, especially to me.” He sifted through the contents. I clutched the bedsheets. “I’m confiscating this.”

“No!” I stand, my tone solid as concrete. Every muscle in my skin tensed, keeping me on my feet. “You will not be doing that! Not after you lied to me for so long! You made me believe my mother was dead!”

“Anya Katrina Price!” The blue veins bulged against his pale, wrinkled skin.

“You do not deserve to call me that!”

A slap hit my face. The sharp sting of nails cutting into my cheek caused a small amount of bleeding.

“We were not speak of this again. You are to stay in this room until I say otherwise.” My father demanded coldly. He closed my bedroom door and locked me in, imprisoning me in a home reeking with deception. Tears trickled down my cheeks, mixing with the blood and burning my wound. I took my secret stash of money and put it in a small compartment in my purse.

No matter how many times my father locks me up, I will not be stopped.

Tonight, I am going buy a plane ticket, fly to Russia, and find my mother.