I don’t tell him that I already translated it. Then I’d have to explain how remembering the Russian was as easy as closing my eyes and listening to my memory. How I could slow down what the man yelled until I heard the words one at a time. My translation was close to his with only small differences: You betrayed me. You can’t hide from it. It will always find you.

I text back.

Me: Yeah. That doesn’t sound scary or anything.

Max: It doesn’t sound good.

Me: I think I’m going to just ask her if she’s from Russia. I’m going to show her the journal and not tell her I found the passports. See what she says.

Max: Dude. Not sure that’s a good idea, but you do what you got to. Do you want me to come over so you’re not alone with her?

Me: Nah. She’s my grandmother.

Max: Still a hard thing to do

Me: I’m fine. I’ll let you know what happens.

Max: Wait! I don’t want to tell you over the phone, but I sort of did some more digging and I found something weird. Can you come to the stables? See what it is first and then talk to her, if you still think you should. I’m working today. You can say you have a lesson. Like in half an hour?

Me: Can’t you just tell me?

Max: No. I need to show you. It’s important.

Me: Okay.

I text Olivia with the plan and tear my bedroom apart searching for my blue top. Olivia still hasn’t responded after I finish getting ready. It isn’t like her to ignore a text. She hates leaving any notifications unanswered.

I head down to the kitchen, where Mom is feeding Clay. He pours orange juice in his eggs and stirs them with a plastic dinosaur.

“Hey, Lulu. I didn’t know you had a lesson today.” Mom motions to my riding outfit. “Gram ran to the store, and you know I hate to go out on a Saturday.”

Or any other day. I try to hide my impatience, but she sees something that gives me away. Her smile falters, and her wrist flicks as if she’s painting. “Can you ask Olivia’s mom to pick you up?”

I glance at my phone, but there’s still no text from Olivia. “Sure, I can ask.”

I text Max instead, my fingers flying.

Me: No way to get there right now.

My phone immediately buzzes.

Max: Sending an Uber.

My lies tumble from me even more effortlessly than before. “Her mom says she will.”

“Great!” Mom’s overly chipper voice hurts my ears. “I’m sorry I can’t take you. I’m feeling stronger lately, so I thought I’d start driving you to lessons during the week. Would you like that?”