After what felt like twenty minutes, she was confident they’d left the city, which meant they were somewhere in Northern Virginia. Halston wanted to lift the blindfold, tilt her head back and catch a glimpse of their location, but she sat mannequin still. The only sign she was alive was her slow and steady breathing.
“Grigori spoke to me about you,” Natasha said, breaking the long silence.
Halston said nothing.
“He is concerned you lie to us.”
More silence from Halston.
“Is that truth?” Natasha asked.
“I don’t lie.”
“He follow you to hotel,” Natasha continued.
The urge to defend herself had words poised on the tip of her tongue, but it was too soon. If she started talking, it would look like she was eager to clear her good name.
Say nothing. Not yet.
“You take elevator up,” Natasha said. “Why you at hotel?”
“I had rats in my apartment.”
“Ew. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“When the rats crawled over me while I slept, I spent a few nights in a nice hotel.”
“I can move you,” Natasha replied.
So, she isn’t executing me?
“I checked embassy housing,” Halston said. “Still nothing. Whatever you can do is appreciated. Rats poop everywhere.”
“I didn’t see any—” Natasha stopped herself.
You’re the one who broke into my shithole apartment. Time to take control.
“You were in my home?” Halston asked.
“I… um… er… yes.”
“Why?”
“To check on truth. Grigori say you are spy.”
Halston let the words hang in the air like a virus.
“Are you?” Natasha pressed.
The car slowed. If they’d been on the beltway or a four-lane road, like Route 7, she’d turned off it.
While Halston could be afraid—she certainly had legit reason—she was not. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to get tortured. But she wouldnotbreak.
Of that she was certain.
She pulled down the blindfold, glared at Natasha. “You disgust me.”
“Put on blindfold.”
