“Hey!” Max shakes his head at me, his eyes wide in mock horror. “Let’s hope he isn’t because I’m pretty sure we’re in major trouble after you just gave us away.”

A giggle pushes past my tears, and Max grins at me.

Olivia rolls her eyes and turns to Yakov. “He wants to ask about the file the government has on her gram. It’s, like, all marked out in black or something. We thought it might be because she’s a spy.”

Yakov’s laughter barks out in harsh rumbles. His entire body shakes with it. Even Olivia can’t stop a quick laugh of surprise at the force of it.

“Her papa was very influential in the Russian government. He would have been able to track them anywhere they went. Mark made sure he’d never find them and hurt them again. He must have classified whatever information the United States had on Tatyana and Olga. It would be the only way he could have kept them safe, da?”

Olivia’s mouth forms a perfect circle. Max’s grin slips right off his face. “That’s messed up,” Max mutters.

They walk with me as Yakov leads us to the front yard. Yakov’s heavy hand lands on my shoulder. “Little Tatyana, please come visit me, da? You and I will be friends, and I will tell you all my stories about your babushka. We will keep her memories safe.”

“I will,” I say. I duck my head and mumble a goodbye, and we trudge to the bus stop in silence. Max and Olivia are both quiet until we’re in front of my house.

“The man in the woods who called your gram a traitor,” Max says. “Was it Yakov?”

My head snaps up.

“Dude, how could you forget about that?” he asks with a wry grin.

“She’s had other things on her mind obviously,” Olivia says, turning to me with a sympathetic grimace. “Are you going to ask your gram about what Yakov told you?”

“I don’t know.” I feel lost. I found the traumatic memory. I solved the mystery of Gram’s past. But none of it matters. It didn’t fix anything, and I don’t know what to do about Gram. How can I make sure my parents don’t send her away if I can’t help her?

“I think you should,” Olivia says. “My mom says all stories are like pancakes. There are always two sides, and you won’t know her side if you don’t ask.”

I stare at my house. I’m not sure I’m ready to be on my own with all this new information. Almost as if they can sense what I’m thinking, Max and Olivia both follow me inside the yard.

“Lulu’s gram is the best cook,” Olivia says, her shoulder bumping mine.