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“No,” I say. “And we are keeping it that way.”

Irina’s brows lift. “We are keeping what exactly?”

I turn to her before Anya can answer and ruin the entire thing. “The plan,” I say calmly. “We’ll keep it between us until we have enough details to present it properly. As you mentioned, Nikolai doesn’t respond well to half-formed requests.”

Irina accepts that immediately, because it flatters her understanding of him. “Yes,” she says. “That’s true.”

I nod, as if I am simply being practical and not currently building a small criminal conspiracy around a child’s birthday party.

“Then we prepare everything quietly.”

Anya presses her lips together, but she is smiling.

Friday morning arrives with the kind of sunny, innocent weather that makes terrible ideas seem blessed by God.

Nikolai leaves just after eight-thirty.

I don’t watch him go from the window.

That would be suspicious.

Also dramatic.

I absolutely watch him go from the second-floor landing instead, half-hidden behind a marble column like a Victorian ghost with employment issues.

He is in a dark suit, phone already at his ear, Sergei beside him with a file in hand. Two guards follow them out. The black car rolls down the drive, the second car behind it, and then the gates open.

For one second, I think he will look back.

He doesn’t.

The gates close behind him. My stomach twists.

There. No turning back now.

Anya finds me twenty minutes later in the library, already dressed for lessons but with her hair brushed far more carefully than usual.

“You look like someone who has strong opinions about punctuation.”

She frowns. “I don’t.”

“Well, not yet. There’s still time.”

She sits, but she cannot keep still. Her foot taps under the table. Her pencil rolls between her fingers. Every few minutes, she glances toward the door.

“Stop looking guilty,” I whisper.

“I’m not guilty.”

“You look like you’ve stolen a horse.”

Her eyes widen. “Have you ever stolen a horse?”

“No. That was a metaphor.”

She looks disappointed.

We get through lessons by sheer force of will. Fractions, reading comprehension, ten minutes of geography, then a suspiciously early break that I justify to absolutely no one because no one asks.