Another picture stands out. This one is of Gram with a man who, at first glance, I think is my grandfather. I look closer. It can’t be Grandpa Daniel—this man is much taller. He towers over Gram. I can’t see his expression since he’s staring down at her, but whoever it is, it’s clear he cares about Gram. Maybe it’s in the careful way he leans over her, like he’s protecting her, or how he can’t look away to even smile at the camera.

Did Gram date someone before Grandpa Daniel?

My phone buzzes next to me with a text from Max.

Max: Hey, just checking to see how you and your gram are doing after all that.

Me: It actually turned out okay. She told me some more stories. And you’re wrong about her being a spy. I think the reason they moved here was because her mom was in love with an American who worked at the embassy. Maybe that’s why he helped them get out of the country.

Max: Did your gram tell you that?

Me: No. I think they kept it secret from her.

Max: Sounds like you just don’t want to believe your gram is a spy. I’m never wrong about this kind of thing.

I roll my eyes. It’s comments like this that remind me why I used to think he was such a jerk.

Me: They got married, like, literally, right after they moved here. I don’t think Gram wants to think her mom would do that. But maybe deep down she knows?

Max: But how do you explain the French passport and this Yakov dude?

Me: My stepgrandfather got them into the country by saying they were French, so that’s why she has a French passport. And Yakov is a friend she met in college. I bet she was drawn to him because he spoke Russian. It was a way to speak the language again.

Max: Maybe. But he’s kind of scary, right? He’s huge. Not someone I’d picture your gram being friends with.

I start to answer when it hits me. Yakov is really tall. I grab the photo album and study the picture of the man with Gram. Could this be Yakov? It’s hard to tell since his face is turned away, and this man has a ton of hair and a sweater that would cover any tattoos on his arms.

Me: I think I found a picture of them together. The weird thing is it sort of looks like they’re a couple. Like in love or something.

Max: Yeah? Weird—they don’t look like they’d match.

I close my eyes and try to rewind the day to when we were at the park with Yakov. I don’t know what it is, but I feel like I’m missing something important.