transportation. It was so cold I’d get into a cab even if the devil himself was driving it. Jet lag and lack of sleep pulled on my muscles. I hadn’t gotten more than a minute of shut-eye on the plane, mostly because the two terrors sitting beside me were little-boy versions of the Energizer Bunny. Fishing my cell phone out of my pocket, I turned it on for the first time since I landed in Moscow and found thirteen missed calls and five voicemails from Ivan. Someone was being a bit dramatic. I read the texts I’d received from a couple friends and a few from Carter confirming our date at eight, reconfirming it, and, after I missed it completely, hoping everything was all right. Pd stood him up. I should feel guilty, but my chest was light, taking in breaths easier for the first time in years. There was nothing particularly wrong with Carter. Our relationship was amicable, maybe, if I reached a little, even nice. But when it came down to it, the last time his lips were on mine, I spent the entire kiss mentally conjugating French verbs for my upcoming exam. Papa didn’t know about the few online courses I’d taken. He’d blown a gasket at my request to attend college, which meant he silently stared at me like I asked to visit North Korea before he said, “Nyet.” So I thought it was best to keep my classes on the down low. The first four voicemails from Ivan sounded very Ivan-like and straightforward, excessively informing me he would land in Moscow at three a.m. and demanding I stay in my hotel room until he arrived. The fifth, however, raised the hair on the back of my neck. He blew out a rough breath, then a curse, and a thump sounded through the line, as if he actually hit something. “I cannot believe you did this. I trusted you not to go to Moscow.” “T didn’t promise you anything,” I muttered to myself. It went silent for a moment, and then his imploring tone became cold, hard fact. “You want the truth for once? Fine. If you want to play games and do not tell me where you are, Mila... I’m a dead man.” He sounded so serious, I actually believed him. For a moment at least. Surely, he didn’t think my papa would murder him. This was more likely