“What are you looking for?” Olga said. “He’s abandoned us. He’s not coming back.”

“He’ll come back,” Sofia said.

“He might not even be alive.”

“Of course he’s alive.”

“You saw the news, Sofia. The gunfire at the Kremlin. The helicopter crash.”

“He’s alive, Olga,” Sofia said, getting more emotional than she intended. “I have to believe that.”

Olga sighed. She came over to Sofia and put her hand on her shoulder. “Sofia, you don’t even know this man.”

Sofia looked at her. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“You’re looking out that window like a sailor’s wife staring out to sea.”

“No I am not.”

“Look at yourself,” Olga said.

Sofia pulled herself away from the window and sat on the bed.

“I’m just worried,” she said.

“I’m worried too,” Olga said. “How are we going to get ourselves out of this mess? We only have money to pay for one more night at this hotel. Then what do we do? They’re looking for us everywhere.”

There’d been pictures of them on the news. Two women on the run, supposedly for murdering their husbands. It was preposterous, neither of them was even married, but it was only a matter of time before someone recognized them.

“That’s why I know he’ll come back,” Sofia said. “Because he has to.”

They were scared of leaving the room and had been waiting impatiently for night to fall. The room had a microwave and they’d been living off ramen and canned soup, but their little stash was almost empty.

“Someone needs to go to the store,” Olga said. “Do you want to, or should I?”

Sofia shook her head. She didn’t know what she wanted. She turned on the television and flicked to the local news station. Everything was about the shooting at the Kremlin. According to the latest update, a soldier with psychiatric issues had gone off the deep end and tried to steal a helicopter. There’d been shots fired but no one was hurt other than the soldier himself, who’d crashed the chopper in Gorky Park and died in the process.

Olga looked at her.

“What?” Sofia said.

“That was him.”

“They’re lying, Olga.”

“Then who died in that crash? You tell me.”

Olga was putting on her coat. “I’m going to the store. Do you want anything?”

Sofia shook her head and Olga was about to open the door when there was a knock on it.

The two women looked at each other.

“What do we do?” Olga whispered.

“Dr. Sofia Ivanovna,” a voice said from outside the door. “Dr. Olga Abramova.”

“We’re screwed,” Olga whispered.

The voice was female, Russian.

“Who is it?” Sofia said.

“Can you let me in? I’m a friend of Roth’s.”

“Who’s Roth?”