“Mila . . . I want you to look around.” A foreboding edge crept into his voice. “Is anyone watching you?” I froze, the hair on the back of my neck rising. “What? Why would someone be watching me?” “Just do it. And do not make it obvious.” A chill crawling up my spine, I discreetly glanced around the store, from a couple of women talking at the front counter, to a few others trying on accessories and perusing clothing racks. They were looking at me here and there, though only like I was a tourist who didn’t blend in. I stared out the front window but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. “Did you know my mother was famous here?” I asked. Maybe she had a Charles Manson-like group of fans? He sighed. “You did, didn’t you?” I accused. “Why wouldn’t you tell me something like that?” “Because you would have gone digging where you do not belong.” “Don’t belong? She was my mother!” “Why don’t you say it a little louder, so the whole city can hear you?” he chided. “Who cares if they do?” “I want you to stay somewhere public until I come get you.” The tone of his voice made my throat feel thick. “Ivan, you’re scaring me.” “Good. Now, go hand one of the saleswomen your phone so I can find out where you are.” I took a step in the front counter’s direction, but something stopped me. “I’m not ready to go home.” “This is not about what you wan—” “No, it never is, is it?” My voice rose. “I know about my papa’s other family. You don’t have to scare me into coming home to keep the secret anymore. For once, I’m thinking about myself.” Silence. “Mila—” “Goodbye, Ivan.” “Mila—” I ended the call.