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I bite my lips and pinch my cheeks between landings two and three to give them some color. If this is the first time I’m going to see Kirill in a week, I don’t want to look as worn as I feel. But when I reach the top of the stairs, it’s not Kirill waiting for me.
It’s Sonya.
Her thin lips are drawn in a severe line. She greets me with an eyebrow raise. “You’re late.”
“I made it downstairs on time,” I argue. “I came upstairs as soon as I saw my assignment on the schedule.”
She ignores me. “I start my work up here exactly at eight. We’re three minutes behind. Plus, I need to fill you in on your duties today. You should have arrived early.”
“I would have if I’d known—” I cut myself off with a shake of my head. “I’m sorry. I’ll do better tomorrow.”
Sonya nods in her own version of forgiveness, the first I’ve ever seen from her. “As you already know, working on the third floor comes with its own risks. Ilya is wary of strangers and sensitive to loud noises and being startled. If you work quietly and move slowly, things are usually fine.”
“And if they aren’t fine…?” I venture.
“Then it’s best to let him work through the outburst in his own time. He tires himself out quickly. When it’s over, we come in and clean the mess.”
I frown. “So you’re bringing me up here to clean this apartment so Ilya can destroy it and then we can clean it again?”
“I knew this would be a mistake,” Sonya grumbles. She stares up at the ceiling as if silently praying and then turns the full power of her gaze back to me. “I have been working for Mr. Zaitsev for six years. I follow him from New York City to here and back again. I’ve spent more time with Ilya than almost anyone else. If you cannot follow my rules, then I will see to it that you be removed from—”
“I’m not trying to doubt you,” I interrupt with an apologetic smile. “Really. I trust what you’re telling me. I’m just trying to understand. Kirill—er, Mr. Zaitsev told me a little bit about Ilya.”
“What did he say?” she asks shrewdly.
I’m not sure what Sonya knows. If she’s telling the truth, then she knows far more about Ilya’s situation than I do. But what if she doesn’t?
“It was in confidence,” I tell her. “I’m sure you know everything already, but if you don’t, I won’t be the one to tell you. You’ll need to talk to Mr. Zaitsev.”
For the first time, Sonya’s mouth tips upward. It isn’t a smile exactly, but it isn’t a frown. Which is a massive improvement.
“Good. Until now, no one on the cleaning staff has been allowed up here except for me. And that is for a reason. I will not let Ilya be treated like the house boogeyman. If I find out you’re sharing information with anyone, you’ll be fired.”
“Maybe worse, if Kirill finds out first,” I mumble.
I think Sonya nods, but I can’t be sure. It wouldn’t be surprising. If she knows this family as well as she says she does, she has to know what Kirill is capable of.
“Anyway,” I continue, “I know a bit about the situation. I understand there are no easy fixes for what Ilya is going through. But is repeatedly cleaning up after his outbursts the best we can do? We can’t… we can’t try to help him in some other way?”
Sonya stiffens. “Mr. Zaitsev has tried everything. If there was something that could be done for his brother, Mr. Zaitsev would do it in a heartbeat. The best we can do is what he instructs us to do.”
No wonder Kirill trusts Sonya. She basically thinks he hung the moon.
“Including bringing me up here?” I ask. “Because I have a sneaking suspicion this wasn’t your idea.”
“Including that,” Sonya admits.
So itwasKirill’s idea to allow me access to the third floor. I want to be flattered, but I suppose I’ll discover once I get to work whether it’s a good thing or not.
“We can head in now,” Sonya says, moving towards the door. “He has had a good morning, so I don’t expect any upsets. Unless he says something to you, you are to work silently. I’m managing the kitchen. You take care of everything else.”
I realize as soon as Sonya opens the door that I didn’t ask for specifics about where to clean and what will be required. But then we step into the apartment and I realize it would have been a waste of breath anyway.
The apartment is like Lily and Brady’s playroom times ten. Clothes are left in piles around the floor, food crumbs and spilled water cover the tables, and everything from crayons to puzzle pieces are scattered across the room. Everyone on staff was off yesterday. So is this what the place looks like after one day without cleaning?
Sonya dives into the mess with a confidence I don’t feel. But I try to follow suit.
There’s no sign of Ilya as I set about tidying and organizing. A few times, I almost say something to Sonya in the kitchen, but I think it might be against the rules.
