“No.”
Megan has never turned away from a challenge. “Do you mind if I try?”
I hold my hands out, as if to say, Go ahead.
For a moment, she just looks at it, studying the different pieces of wood that blend together in a gorgeous mix of light and dark.
Then, carefully, she reaches for it, running a fingertip along the strips of wood.
“I saw this once,” I tell her. “When I was a little girl. Mom told me that I’d figure out how to open it when I needed to.”
“I don’t see anything,” Megan tells me, standing upright again. “But it’s beautiful. Do you mind if I work on it for a while?”
“Go ahead,” I say. But I’m not optimistic.
This is a mistake.”
I’ve seen Alexei cocky and scared and worried, but nervous is a whole new look on him. I’m not sure if it’s the Soviet-era institution that scares him or the woman we hope to find inside.
No, I realize then. I do know. And I can’t blame him for what he’s feeling.
The morning air is cold, and a heavy frost lies on the ground around us. The night was long and winter is coming, and I want to get out of here before we all start to freeze. But it’s too late for the boy beside me. His heart froze over ages ago.
I try to make light of it. “I know this whole plan seems a little crazy. But crazy is kind of normal for us these days, isn’t it?”
“We should leave her in there,” Alexei says.
“We are going to leave her in there. We’re just going to talk to her—find out what happened.”
“We should leave her in there. Alone.”
I’ve known love, and I’ve known hate. But I’ve never seen how easily one can morph into the other. Alexei’s mother left him. She didn’t just hurt him; she changed him. And I know the boy beside me is proof of what happens when you grow up knowing you’re the kind of person who can be left behind.
“Alexei, don’t you wonder how she ended up in there? I mean, do you think your dad had her committed? Because if he didn’t … If my mom got killed, maybe your mom got locked up? Maybe she didn’t leave you.”
When he turns, he’s almost a stranger. “My mom left long before she went away.”
“Alexei, we don’t know what happened. We don’t know why your mom is in there or why my mom went to see her. We don’t know anything.”
Alexei’s voice is cold. “Maybe it’s better that way.”
He takes my hands in his. They’re big and warm, and I let myself savor that feeling. I let myself feel safe.
“Sometimes it’s better not to know,” he says.
No one knows that better than I do. I think back to before I knew. About who killed my mom. About why. Would I go back if I could? I don’t know. And it doesn’t matter. Time only runs in one direction.
“Promise me something,” Alexei says, pulling me closer.
I look up. “Anything,” I say, and I mean it. I actually do. I don’t stop to think about why that scares me.
“If something goes wrong today, I want you to run.”
“I’m not going to leave you.”
“You’re too important,” he says, then pushes a strand of hair out of my eyes. “To the world. To me.” Then Alexei looks at me—I mean really looks at me—and says, “Promise that you’ll keep my girlfriend safe.”
I can’t help myself. I pull back, look into his too-cool, too-blue eyes. I almost choke on the words. “I’m your girlfriend?”
“No.” Alexei shakes his head, then pulls me to him again, holds me closer. “There’s not a word in either of our languages for what you are to me.”
And then he kisses me, soft and sweet, and for one brief second I actually let myself think that maybe—someday—it is all going to be okay.
When Noah clears his throat, Alexei and I pull apart. I jerk back, but he’s so calm and sure. He’s not ashamed to be seen kissing me, and that’s the first sign that maybe he’s not entirely sane, either.
“We ready?” Megan asks as she walks from the house to the car.
Alexei and I look at each other, equally unsure of the answer.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Noah asks, pulling me aside.
“I have to do this.”
“No.” He shakes his head. “You don’t have to go in there.”
Noah is my best friend, so maybe that’s why he sees what the others don’t, why he hears what I don’t say.
Noah doesn’t want me to rethink my plan because the compound might be filled with guns and guards. Noah wants me to stay here because it might be filled with ghosts.
“Don’t go in there, Gracie. Don’t do that to yourself. Let Alexei go. I’ll go with him. I’ll ask your questions, just … don’t go.”
“I have to.”
“No!” Noah snaps. “You don’t. We can help you. Let us help you.”
Noah is smart and kind and right—there’s no denying that he’s right. I’m the last person who should walk into Binevale, but you don’t end up in a place like that in the first place if you always make the smart decision.