He glares at me, betrayed. “I didn’t wait around to find out.”
He releases me then, moves around my mother’s room. When he stops at the window he draws the curtains and blocks out the light. I’d almost forgotten it’s still the middle of the day. Time doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.
“Why are you here, Alexei?”
“Isn’t it obvious? I’m a dangerous murderer and there is a nationwide manhunt. I have more Americans to kill.”
“Why are you here?” I practically shout. “If you can break into the US you can break into Russia. You’d be safer there. Why are you in my room?”
“Because you and I have unfinished business.”
I expect him to grab me or tease me or … kiss me. I expect him to shout from the rafters about my betrayal or throw me over his shoulder and drag me away.
But Alexei just stalks into the bathroom and starts pulling out drawers, throwing open cabinets. There’s a pack of toothbrushes, and he grabs one, wheels on me.
“This is mine now,” he announces. I don’t say a thing to protest as Alexei starts to brush his teeth.
I sleep in Dad’s old T-shirts, and one is lying on top of my dresser. Alexei grabs it. “This, too!” he says, toothbrush sticking out the side of his mouth, toothpaste foaming on his lips. He looks like a rabid dog.
“Okay.” I sit down on the edge of the bed and wait silently as he brushes his teeth and rips off his stained and sweaty shirt. He wets a washcloth and rubs it over his chest, then pulls on my clean shirt. Finally, he leans over the sink and splashes water on his face. When he looks up again, our gazes meet in the mirror.
“You don’t look scared,” he tells me.
“I’m not.”
The look that crosses his face next is one I’ve seen before: Maybe she really is crazy.
“I thought you believed I was a killer.”
“And I thought you got a ride home with some kids you didn’t know and went straight back to Russia. We’ve both been disappointed.”
Alexei huffs and slowly turns. As he leans against the sink I can feel him studying me. It’s not the first time I’ve watched someone wonder, What am I going to do with Grace?
“Jamie probably has shaving stuff,” I tell him, but he shakes his head.
“You’re not running to Big Brother. Not this time, Gracie. This time you will sit right there. And I’m going to tell you a story.”
Alexei doesn’t move toward me. I’m happy for that, I think. When he touches me I get stupid, so I vow to never, ever let him touch me again.
He crosses his arms and studies me, as if we have all day, as if this is the most natural thing in the world.
“My mother was Adrian.”
It takes a moment for me to register what Alexei’s just said, for me to realize that I have never heard him mention his mother before.
“I didn’t know that.”
“There is no reason you should know. I doubt you ever saw her. She has not been seen by anyone in ten years. Not since she went missing.”
“Your mother’s missing?”
Alexei looks away for a moment. It’s like he doesn’t want to face what comes next.
“I know, Gracie. I’ve always known. About the Society.”
“Your mother was a member?” I ask. Alexei nods.
“She … and her friends. I used to see them together, meeting in secret, talking in whispers. I watched them obsess over things that disappeared hundreds of years ago. It is rather ironic, is it not? That now she is the thing that is missing?”
“Who exactly were her friends?” I ask, even though I already know at least part of the answer. Alexei must see it in my eyes, because he nods.
“Yes. Your mother was one of them. How do you think Jamie and I became so close? The two of us were pushed together practically in the cradle, told to go play while the three of them did whatever it is they would do.”
Alexei reaches into his pocket, pulls out his wallet, and tosses it in my direction. I catch it as he says, “Look.” There among the euros is an old snapshot of three women. No, three girls. They’re laughing and smiling, so happy as they stand atop the wall with the blue sea stretching to the horizon beyond their shoulders. I stare into my mother’s eyes and know I never knew her at all.
“My mother carried that photo with her,” he says. “Almost always.”
“Alexei …” I start to stand, to reach for him, but I’m rooted to the spot. I’m half afraid that if I get any closer he’ll jump out the window, never to be seen again.
“What happened the night Spence died?” I ask instead.
“We fought.” Alexei shrugs. “And I saw the medallion around his neck and knew it had to do with the Society, so when he went to search the ruins I followed him. I wasn’t going to stay behind just because I did not care for the company.”
“So you came back via the tunnel? With Spence?”
“Yes.”
“The last time I saw the two of you, you were trying to claw each other’s eyes out.”