Raisa moved to the table, putting her shopping down. In the kitchen she filled a glass with water, turning her back on Leo for the first time since coming home. She finished the water in three long gulps and placed the glass in the sink, asking:

—What igirls had returned instead of me? They trust you, Leo. It’s taken a long time but they do. You’d risk that?

Trust was a euphemism for love. It was hard to be sure if Raisa was talking solely about their adopted daughters, or if she was indirectly referring to her own emotions. She continued:

—Why remind them of the past? Of the person you used to be? And the career you used to have? You’ve spent so many years putting that history behind you. It’s not part of this family any more. Finally the girls think of you as a father, not an agent.

There was calculated cruelty in the detail of her response, laying out their history with unnecessary elaboration. She was angry with him. She was hurting him. For the first time in the conversation Leo became animated, wounded by the remarks.

—I saw something hidden under the mattress. Wouldn’t any man be curious? Wouldn’t any father have acted as I had?

—But you’re not just any father.

She was right. He’d never be an ordinary husband. He’d never be an ordinary father. He would have to guard against the past as surely as he had once guarded against enemies of the State. There was regret in Raisa’s eyes. She said:

—I didn’t mean that.

—Raisa, I swear to you, I opened this diary as a father worried about his family. Elena has been acting strangely. You must have noticed?

—She’s nervous about the trip.

—It’s more than that. Something is wrong.

Raisa shook her head.

—Not this again.

—I don’t want you to go. I can’t help feeling this way. This trip—

Raisa interrupted him.

—We made a decision. Everything is arranged. I know your feelings about the trip. You’ve opposed it from the beginning without giving any good reason. I’m sorry you’re not coming. I would love you to be there. I would feel more at ease with you by my side. And I petitioned for you to come with us. But it was impossible. There’s nothing more I can do. Except to pull out, without giving any reason, at the last minute, which would be far more dangerous than going, at least in my view.

Raisa glanced at the diary. She was tempted by it too.

—Now, please, put the diary back.

Leo clutched it, reluctant to let it go.

—The first entry troubles me—

—Leo.

Raisa hadn’t raised her voice. She didn’t need to.