I hadn’t thought this through. I didn’t remember there was one “greeting” room of mirrors where families spent time with their future children and so we and the Robinettes couldn’t use it at the same time. It would have been inconceivable to ask them to wait a couple of hours to meet their daughter for the first time. So we gave them the room, and Chele gave me this giant hug that nearly made me cry. I felt so on edge, and I couldn’t let anyone see. They went in, and Maria, not being their caseworker, gave me and Kyle a short tour. The door to Grant’s ward was closed; we’d see him later, but now I knew where his crib was. Older children we saw looked at us with empty eyes, and I realized again how narrow Grant’s world was—had he ever been off this property since he was brought here? Had he known a true moment of comfort? We gave the extra gifts I’d brought this time, including more basic supplies, all of which was accepted with a murmured thanks.

Kyle wanted to be sure everything was fine with the paperwork. Maria agreed. She and Danielle and Kyle went to go check all the necessary and tiresome details again, as the judge we had been assigned was extremely nitpicky about these matters and had a reputation of being difficult. It was why we had given ourselves ten days here (well, one of the reasons).

I couldn’t bear to look at more paperwork. I’d handled it all in the US and Kyle had handled it all here (because you could see that the Russians expected the man to take the lead in all this; apparently I was here just to look maternal and hold the baby—and refuse quarter-million-dollar bribes).

“May I go for a walk outside?” I asked Maria, and she nodded and said something in Russian. Pavel was with the Robinettes, and Danielle said, “Yes. Just watch where you go”—like I was a child, but I nodded and left.

I kept wondering if I should tell Danielle about the warning woman’s approach. The offer of money. But if I did, what would Danielle do? Report it to the Russian authorities? They might derail the adoption for their own reasons, deem it too dangerous. I couldn’t risk it. I would not risk my child’s future out of fear. I would not let him be left here. So—I stayed silent.

Outside, the air felt bracing. No sign of the warning woman or the bad guys in the SUV. Our driver sat in the van, drinking from a thermos, reading a thick novel. I ignored him.