Peter smiles. “Mama gave me up, too, for a little while, till Papa found me. I don’t want to hurt you, but you’re going to sit down on that bed. The nurse will give you a shot if you feel anxious. We won’t be in Canada long. Then we’ll fly home.”

Home. Grant stares at him. Then he drops to one knee, as if shuddering in shock and dismay, his fingers searching for the knife he tucked in his sock.

*  *  *

Iris pulls the gun from her waistband and aims it at Mike.

“Are you going to shoot me, Iris? The way you did Anya, when all she wanted was her child back?”

“It wasn’t like that… She was going to kill us…”

“Well, you were taking her child from her. You were in the way. No jury would have convicted her.”

“He was ours! She gave him up!”

“Could you ever give up Grant? If it was what was best for him?”

She stares at him.

“Your husband killed Danielle. Your daughter killed Marland. It’s likely that you personally concealed evidence in both cases—in fact, that will be found to be so, very soon. You’re felons, all of you. What future does Sasha have with such a family? None. None at all. I’m his father, and I’m taking him home.”

“Who are you?”

“My name would be meaningful to you if you followed Russian politics, but I don’t expect that of a woman who writes forgettable pop songs. I’m a man with some means. A man who was betrayed by Anya, a young woman he loved. A man who was spied on by Anya for your friend Danielle, and so Anya left me and hid and found out she was pregnant with my child and gave up the baby. Then she changed her mind. I never knew until I went looking for her. And found her.”

“The village.”

“I’d bought Bukharin, you see. The whole village was to be cut down so I could build my estate on it. She went there because she felt safe; she could hide and wait for me there. No one would look for her there. And there she would be, with my child. A bargaining chip to ask my forgiveness for betraying me to the CIA.”

She remembered what Danielle had said: these places get bought by oligarchs and millionaires and torn down for estates. More than an idle speculation, a statement of fact.

“Danielle and Anya spied on you.”