Flushed with success, Raisa eagerly tried to find her daughters. It was difficult to locate them since the corridors were so full. She stood on the spot, slowly turning around, searching the crowd. They were nowhere to be seen. A tingling anxiety rose up through her legs into her stomach; she paid no attention to the congratulations offered to her, ignored the very men and women she’d been sent here to impress. Pushing through the group she saw Zoya and felt relief. She hurried towards her.

—Where’s Elena?

Zoya looked at her, pale with worry.

—I don’t know.

Zoya raised her hand, pointing in front of her.

Raisa saw Mikael Ivanov with his back to her and the children, staring out of the large lobby windows at the street and the demonstration. Behind him photographers flashed their cameras at the children and yet he didn’t turn around, his attention concentrated on the events outside. She walked up to him, grabbing his arm and turning him around, staring into his handsome face with such determined ferocity that he recoiled but she did not let go of his arm:

—Where is Elena?

He was about to lie: she could see the process as clearly as if she were regarding the mechanics of a watch.

—Don’t lie to me or I swear I’ll start screaming in front of all these very important guests.

He said nothing. She glanced at the demonstration and whispered:

—If anything happens to her, I’ll kill you.

Manhattan

Outside the United Nations Headquarters

1st Avenue & East 44th Street - Same Day