Irina lifts one brow at me. “Did you?”
“Yes.”
“How kind,” she says again, this time with more edge. “You’ve always been so public-spirited.”
I fold my arms. “He’s not what she thinks he is.”
“That sounds very dramatic,” Vika says. “Should I be frightened?”
“Yes,” I say.
For a second, neither of them speaks.
Then Irina says, “Katerina, you’re in no position to make demands where men like Roman Sokolov are concerned.”
The same reminder that I should be grateful for interest, grateful for attention, grateful that I’m still marketable at all.
My temper flares too fast to hide. “And Vika is?”
Vika opens her mouth, but Irina answers first.
“Viktoria knows how to behave.”
I laugh. Actually laugh. “That’s what we’re calling it?”
Irina’s eyes sharpen. “What exactly are we calling your behavior?”
Before I can answer, Papa steps into the room. He looks from Irina to Vika to me and understands enough immediately.
“What is this?”
Vika gets there first, because she always does. “Katerina is upset about Roman.”
Papa’s eyes shift to me. That makes my stomach tighten. “And why,” he asks, very calmly, “is Katerina upset about Roman?”
I know that tone. It means he thinks there is useful information in the room and intends to pull it out without anyone noticing the extraction.
I say, “I’m not upset about Roman.”
Vika laughs.
Papa ignores her. “Then why are you warning your sister away from him?”
“Because she doesn’t understand him.”
Irina makes a soft, dismissive sound. “And you do?”
There are too many answers to that. None of them safe.
So I say nothing.
Papa watches my silence for a second too long. Then something changes in his face. Not recognition exactly. More like a thought settling into place.
“Well,” he says, “that’s useful.”
I go cold. “What is?”
He looks at me as if I’ve asked something childish. “I’ve been thinking.”
