—Leo! He’s been against this trip from the beginning. What has he been saying? He’s paranoid. He sees intrigue and deceit and treachery everywhere. He’s sick. Truly, he’s sick to his soul. Nothing bad is going on. I promise you. There is no reason to keep me in my room just because a bitter former agent has forgotten that not everything in the world is twisted and sinister.

Elena referred to Leo as a former secret agent, rather than her father. Raisa had undermined Leo’s relationship with the girls. Elena began to cry.

—Am I the only student to be locked in their room? For no reason? While all the other students perform? I’m going to sit here? My real mother would never have behaved like this. A real mother would understand the humiliation…

Zoya reached out and touched her sister’s arm, in a reversal of their usual roles, trying to rein her anger back.

—Elena…

Elena pulled her arm free, staring at Raisa.

—No, I will not be told how I should feel. I will not be told how to behave. I’m not a child any more! You can stop me from going to the concert. You have that power. If you do, I will never forgive Leo.

Same Day

Yates struggled to understand the translator’s thick Russian accent. She’d lived in this country for over forty years, was employed in an Ivy League university as a professor of linguistics, yet she couldn’t even speak English properly. He asked:

—The mother gave in?

—The daughter is coming to the concert. She’s been allowed to attend.

—Did the girl mention any plans? Say anything else?

—She denied there was anything sinister about to happen.

—You’re sure?

—I am sure.

—No mention of any plot?

—I’ve been speaking Russian all my life.

This translator didn’t like him and wasn’t afraid to show it, peering over her thick-framed glasses as if Yates were beneath contempt. She’d been the only linguist who’d objected to helping with this operation, stating that she was an academic not a spy.

—Speaking Russian all your life? That is a long time: maybe you still have feelings for the country? Sentimental feelings that might make you omit an important detail or two?

The woman’s face tightened with anger.

—Have someone check the transcript, someone you trust, if there is such a person.

Yates sunk his hands into his pockets.

—How about you just answer my questions? Right now I’m not interested in you. I’m interested in what that family was talking about. Was there any mention of Jesse Austin?

—No.

Yates addressed the entire room, clutching the rushed, handwritten transcript of Raisa’s phone conversation with Leo.