a child, and change it to something heart-healthy. Papa was supposed to be watching his cholesterol. I’d fret; he’d argue. But he’d eventually give in. Tonight, I sat there for two hours with Ivan and my unblemished reflection in the porcelain plate. That is, until an anniversary party at the next table exploded everywhere, shattering my resolve into gold confetti. Ivan was chatting up a waitress at the bar when I escaped the restaurant and ran the five miles home. “He’s never been gone this long, Ivan . . .” My voice trailed off before I said, “Something’s not right.” As usual, the same ambiguous words began to leave his lips—so very busy, important business deal, blah blah blah. I tuned him out to watch a single seagull soar above the water. I envied its wings; its courage to leap from a nest without knowing yet that it could fly. Here I was, grounded behind golden gates by Dior and the desire for my papa’s approval. I didn’t realize I’d turned to walk away until Ivan grabbed my arm. “Where are you going?” “Home” was on my lips, but something entirely different, something that shocked even me, came out. “Moscow.” Had cool and collected Ivan Volkov actually paled at that single word, or was it my overactive imagination? He released my arm, his quiet intensity freezing me to the wet stone. “Moscow,” he repeated slowly, like he’d heard me wrong. I raised a brow. “The capital of Russia? The place I was born? The—” “Zamolchi.” Be quiet. “Why do you want to go to Moscow?” “Papa practically lives there these days. You know he’s not watching his cholesterol. What if he’s sick and doesn’t want me to know?” “I promise you, he is not sick.” At the sincerity in his eyes, I believed him. The knowledge released a small weight from my shoulders, but it also added another. “What if he’s in some kind of trouble?” Pd met a number of papa’s business partners, and there wasn’t a single one I would be comfortable being alone with. “And once you are over there, what will you be able to do if he is?” “Contact the police.” Ivan didn’t look convinced. Actually, after a few seconds of staring at me, he cast a disinterested look out at the bay and released a breath. It held