Milaand I didn’t speak until we were off the ice.
We never did while Sokolov remained within earshot. Years of training under him had turned caution into instinct.
I crouched beside the benches and clipped the guards onto my blades. Usually Mila would already be halfway down the corridor by now.
This time she stayed where she was.
“You’re slipping.”
I didn’t look up. “The lift was clean.”
I knew I’d replied too quickly.
“That’s not what I mean.”
I finished with the second blade and rose slowly. “Then whatdoyou mean?”
Mila folded her arms. “Sokolov wasn’t talking about skating.”
I swallowed, then covered it by reaching into my bag. “He’s imagining problems that don’t exist.” The lie tasted stale even to me.
“Luka.” Her voice was sharp enough to stop me in my tracks. “You disappeared out there.”
My pulse quickened, my jaw tightened. “There was no technical issue.”
The words sounded defensive the moment they left my mouth.
“Listen to yourself.” She shook her head. “You’re still doing it.”
“Doing what?”
“Answering a different question.”
Silence fell between us.
I slung my bag over my shoulder. “This conversation is finished.”
I wanted it finished. That wasn’t the same thing.
“And I say it isn’t.”
I started walking.
“You know why Sokolov stopped us.”
My steps stopped before I could prevent it.
“I saw your face when he looked at you.” Her voice was lower now. “Isawyou, Luka.”
The air seemed to leave my lungs.
I turned back toward her.
She adjusted her bag higher onto her shoulder. “Just be careful. You know what happens if Sokolov starts asking harder questions.”
Yes, that was the problem.
Mila held my gaze for another second before heading toward the exit.
