Page 50

“No.” Cara fits two blocks together and passes them to Misha. “I stopped treating staying and surrendering as the same thing.”

I look toward Alexei’s closed office door. “Men like them don’t give up control.”

Elena follows my glance. “No. They give up a little at a time, then act offended when you notice.”

Cara smiles once. “Sometimes, they need to be hit with the ruler.”

I don’t smile back.

I press the block’s edge into my palm. For one foolish second, I picture Misha and me staying here without letting Alexei control our lives. The truth is also a paradox. His world is dangerous, but hiding Misha from him didn’t keep our son safe.

Alexei’s world makes children into targets. Alexei is right that Misha has become a target anyway, and he deserves to know his son.

No one speaks. I pick up my phone from the table and check it again.

No message from Marina, no call from staffing.

Elena notices. “Doctors are always busy.”

“A colleague missed her shift.” I turn the phone face down. “She doesn’t do that.”

Cara’s expression changes, small and quick. “What’s her name?”

“Marina.”

The women look at each other.

Only for a second, but I see it.

I stand. “What?”

Elena takes Lev from Lidiya. “Maksim mentioned someone from the hospital. He didn’t tell us what happened.”

Cara gets up from the floor, picks up a fallen block, and gives it to Misha. “You should ask Alexei.”

My stomach tightens. “Why would Alexei know where Marina is?”

“Vera.”

I step back from her. “Don’t use my name like you’re preparing me for something.”

Misha looks up at my voice. I lower it immediately, then cross to the table and grab my phone.

Cara comes closer, stopping before she crowds me. “Running doesn’t always save us, and staying doesn’t have to mean surrender. It does mean the people asking you to trust them have to tell you the truth.”

“I haven’t agreed to trust anyone.”

“No,” she says, glancing toward where the office sits. “But you’re already letting one man’s silence decide what happens next.”

Behind us, Misha looks over his city, then points toward the corridor exactly as Alexei did while assigning guards.

Mikhail copies him for two seconds, gets bored, and kicks a block through the arch. Elena’s gaze moves from Misha’s posture to my face. My hands go cold.

Cara steps beside me and keeps her voice low enough for the children not to hear. “A strategist will keep things from you and call it protection unless you force him to answer.”

Heavy footsteps stop near the kitchenette entrance. I turn.

Alexei stands there with one hand braced against the frame. He isn’t looking at my face.